


Roughing It:  Adventures in the Great Beyond

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3584967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predec2/pseuds/Predec2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin never got to go camping with Brian during the Liberty Ride.  This is what happens when he finally persuades him to experience the joys of living in the wilderness.  Chaos ensues!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Does He Talk Me Into This?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed work of 18 chapters. Will upload as fast as I can. Hope you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun writing this one.;)

DISCLAIMER: QAF and its characters are the sole property of Cowlip Productions and Showtime. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"Ow! Fuck!" The last thing Brian Kinney was expecting to be greeted with when he opened his door was a camping stove resting right inside the entrance; but he couldn't miss it as his foot made contact with it and he went sprawling onto the hard wooden floor. "Fuck!" he repeated in irritation. ""Justin? Where are you? Are you in here?" Brian cried in disgust.

"I'm over here," he heard a familiar voice; it seemed to be coming from the couch area, although with the fully-constructed dome tent standing in the center of the open living room/kitchen, it was difficult to see around it. The tent appeared to be just a size smaller than the Taj Mahal. "Where?" Brian repeated, craning his neck around to try and find his partner.

"Over here," he heard Justin calling a little more loudly now. "By the couch. Make a left by the camping stove and turn right at the inflatable raft."

Brian rolled his eyes in disbelief as he obeyed the blond's instructions. Sure enough, after the turn at the inflatable raft, he spied his partner lying stomach down on the white rug in front of the couch, intently perusing what appeared to be some type of manual. Despite his great consternation at the moment, he couldn't help admiring the luscious ass that was poking up perkily through the blond's rather tight blue jeans.

Brian stood next to Justin, who seemed to be ignoring his now-bare-footed stance and his hands on his lean hips. "Justin?" Brian asked again, this time in irritation. "What the _FUCK_ is this? A _Boy Scout_ convention?"

"Ha, ha," Justin finally answered, sparing a glance up at the brunet. "I have a good feeling you were _never_ a Boy Scout, Mr. Kinney," he smirked.

Brian squatted down and firmly smacked Justin on the ass, receiving an " _asshole_ " in reply. As the brunet looked down at what Justin was reading, he noticed with some dread that it was a _Camping for Dummies_ book. "Uh…what are you reading _that_ for?" he asked uneasily.

Justin gave him an exasperated look of "Duh" before replying, "Oh, I don't know…..could it be because we're going camping?" he said just a little too eagerly for Brian's taste. "We never got to during the Liberty Ride, remember, and now I have all this cool stuff to try out," he explained sensibly. "And you promised me we could go away together next week, just the two of us, remember?"

Brian abruptly stood up as if he had been burned and started pacing. "Oh, NO," he warned menacingly. "WE are NOT going camping now, next week, next month, _ever_ …You just put that idea right out of your pretty little head, blonde boy. Brian Kinney does NOT do camping." He plopped down on the couch with a decidedly vocal humpff as he exhaled a loud breath and crossed his arms in defiance.

Justin placed the book down on the floor and walked slowly over to the other man, sitting just a little too close for comfort next to him on the couch. _Why do you have to sit so CLOSE?_ Brian thought, feeling just a little dizzy as he caught a whiff of the uniquely sweet Justin smell.

Justin rolled his lips under in amusement as he noticed the lust-filled look appearing on his lover's face. He leaned over and wrapped a slender hand around the other man's neck to lightly feather the auburn hair; his warm breath gently tickled the man's ear as he whispered seductively, "Just think, Brian. You and me, alone out in the great wilderness, curled up nice and comfy-cozy in our oversized sleeping bag, only our body heat keeping us toasty warm while we stare up at all the stars twinkling overhead as we're making made, sweaty, passionate love and fucking our brains out. Just the two of us."

"And mosquitoes, and bears, and great horned owls, and snakes," Brian snarled, trying hard to concentrate as Justin started to nuzzle and lick his earlobe, his other hand now sneaking its way inside his shirt to begin drawing circles on his chest, occasionally stopping to rub a quickly-hardening nipple. _What was he thinking about_? Oh, yeah…..wild critters. Great, horned critters. _Well, there was a large, horny, wild critter currently sitting way too close to him on the couch right now._

"I can cook all kinds of fresh, low-carb delicacies for you each day," Justin cooed, "while you _light my fire_ for me at night." Brian's cock was suddenly standing at full attention as he realized, a little shocked, that his shirt had somehow been removed. _How did THAT happen?_ he fleetingly wondered just before Justin leaned down and slowly licked a swirling circle around his belly button, causing the brunet to emit a involuntary moan. He felt a chuckle escape from the blond's mouth and started to generate a suitable, indignant retort, but it promptly died on his lips as he heard a snap and then felt hot air being blown on his now fully exposed cock. "In fact, I think I'm in the mood right now for some hot dog," Justin growled huskily, just before he took something that was most definitely NOT a cocktail wiener fully into his mouth. Brian arched off the back of the couch and gasped as he felt wet, hot lips sliding up and down his shaft in a delicious torture.

"AAHHH!" Brian cried out, as his hands automatically reached down to twist themselves in the soft, blond hair. "No fair!" he growled. "You were never a _Boy Scout,_ either, Sunshine. They're always fair and you're NOT!"

Justin stopped his torment just long enough to look up at his partner through lush, long eyelashes and shaggy bangs to retort, "Boy scouts are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent," he recited dutifully. "It doesn't say anything about _fair,"_ he smirked, just before he again dipped his head down and, firmly grasping the large cock in his left hand this time, began to again indulge in his favorite camping food, his head bobbing up and down rhythmically.

A loud moan erupted this time from Brian as Justin continued his skillful ministrations. The man knew just what to do to make Brian absolutely crazy…..and talk him into doing something he would never have thought even remotely conceivable.

As his betraying body slowly came down minutes later from yet another mind blowing high thanks to his own little lumberjack, his breath slowed enough eventually so he could speak again. "Uh…..if we do this, do you promise to give me the same treatment several times a day without fail?" he inquired, as Justin slowly inched his way back up the man's body, which was now lying completely prone on the couch. The blond placed his head on Brian's chest, slowly caressing the taut stomach. He finally raised his head to look affectionately at his lover. "Scout's honor," he promised triumphantly, just before he placed a passionate kiss on the readily awaiting lips that were trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. 


	2. The Night Before

_Friday Evening – the Loft_

 

"So where's the Eagle Scout now?" the man asked his friend.

 

He distinctly heard a snort over the phone in response. "He's still at work, but I talked to him a little while ago and he said he'd be home soon, so I have to make this quick," Justin informed him. "You understand what I need you to do, don't you?"

 

The man laughed. "Yeah, I think so…..you are so going to fuck with his head, you know."

 

Justin grinned smugly. "I know…But that's the idea, isn't it? I can just see his face now, can't you?"

 

His friend laughed. "Yeah, I sure can…..but I think _I'M_ getting the best part of the deal. Don't worry – I'll have everything ready for you. Just make sure you tell me ALL about it when the two of you get back, okay? I can't wait!" he exclaimed gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "This should be so _good_ …"

 

Justin chuckled at the thought. "I know, but I think I'm the one getting the most out of it. Anyway, thanks for the assist. In the meantime, enjoy the tradeoff."

 

"Oh, I will," the other man assured him, before hanging up. He had a lot of plans to make and not much time to get them in motion. He hurriedly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door to get started.

 

* * *

 

_Kinnetik – Same Time – Friday Evening_

 

"Mikey, are you listening to me? We're supposed to leave _tomorrow_."

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening. But you're going to owe me BIG TIME for this. If Ben wasn't coming with me, I would never agree to this. I think it's pretty underhanded, even for _you_ ," he declared. "I actually _like_ Justin now, remember?"

 

"This has nothing to do with _Justin_. This has to do with my _creature comforts_ and my fucking _sanity_ ," Brian growled. He still couldn't believe he had let his partner talk him into going _camping_. In a _tent_. In a _sleeping bag_ (although the thought of curling up snugly each night with a certain blond piece of heaven made it a little more palatable). But worst of all, with no _running water_. As in no _indoor plumbing._ As in no _bathroom_. How was any self-respecting man supposed to fuck properly without a bathroom?

 

"Uh, huh," Michael was answering him, not quite sounding sympathetic enough to Brian's ears. "Is widdle Bwian afwaid of some big bad bugs?" he asked child-like, not able to keep the mirth out of his voice.

 

"Shut up, Mikey," Brian snapped. "Just do what I fucking ask, okay? It's not like you're not getting the _best_ end of this deal, remember. And just for the record, NO, I'm NOT afwaid of some widdle bugs!"

 

"Whatever you say, Brian. I believe you." He smiled to himself in amusement. "Okay, I'll have everything ready just like you asked. Just make sure you have everything ready for _Ben and ME_ , too."

 

"Yeah, yeah…I'll have Cynthia take care of it before I leave here tonight. Just get busy, okay? You don't have much time."

 

"I promise to start as soon as we hang up. Scout's Honor."

 

"Don't _SAY_ that _\- I fucking HATE that phrase!_ Never mind…don't even ask. Just get busy." He abruptly snapped his cell phone shut before Michael had a chance to issue any more retorts and sighed. _How did he let himself ever get talked onto this?_ Groaning in resignation, he stood up from his desk in search of his assistant so he could start making the necessary preparations for his trip tomorrow when he expected to drop off the face of the earth.

 

* * *

 

Brian pulled up in front of the loft in his 'Vette about an hour later; he noticed a large SUV parked directly in front of his car, loaded in the back with all types of camping paraphernalia. Rolling his eyes, he pulled his long body out from under the driver's side and went inside in search of his partner.

 

He didn't have to look very hard for him; as it was, he barely had time to pull the loft door open before he ran smack into his target – _literally_.

 

"Ow! Shit, Brian!" Justin snapped, as a tackle box, fishing poles, and two, rolled-up, overstuffed sleeping bags went flying in all directions and clattered noisily on the wooden floor. "Couldn't you see I had my hands full?"

 

"No, I guess not," Brian retorted, his hands crossed in front of him in disgust. "I was too busy keeping my head down, trying to dodge all your fucking crap on the floor to keep from _tripping_ all over it!"

 

Justin huffed. "Well, I have to put it _somewhere_ until I can get it loaded into the rental vehicle." He then turned around, deliberately it seemed to Brian, and ever so slowly bent over to pick up the two sleeping bags, displaying one of his best physical features to the other man. Before he had a chance to right himself back up, he felt two long arms snake themselves around his waist and pull him forcefully against one of _Brian's_ best physical features, which at the moment was fully erect and hard as a rock.

 

"I'll show you where to _PUT IT_ ," Brian growled huskily, lips curled under in amusement, as he spun his partner around and planted a passionate kiss on the full, pink lips. Justin instantly forgot the sleeping bags as he dropped them back on the floor and wound his arms around the brunet's neck to push his lips even deeper against the other man's.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, the two lovers were snuggled together on the large floor cushions, totally sated after several rounds of furious fucking. Brian absentmindedly threaded his fingers through his partner's hair as he murmured, "You realize that this will be the last night we spend together in _comfortable_ surroundings for the next week, don't you?"

 

Curled up on the other man's chest, Justin smiled as he slowly drew circles on the taut abdomen before he replied with mock sympathy, "My poor baby…..being subjected to an entire week of no modern conveniences. However will he survive?" he asked melodramatically, earning a slap on the ass and a chuckle of satisfaction from the brunet. "Ow!" Justin cried. "Keep that up and you'll have to go without your only source of body heat next week, too!" he warned.

 

"Oh, right," Brian retorted. "Like you could go an entire week out in the great wilderness without having me fuck you senseless."

 

"I could if I _had_ to," Justin insisted. As Brian looked down at him with a look of disbelief and skepticism on his handsome face, Justin decided maybe now wasn't a good time to prove that statement, however. "Uh…..that is, if I _wanted_ to," he elaborated further.

 

Brian smirked. "That's what I _thought,_ " he replied smugly, as his arms pressed the other man into his side firmly.

 

"No sense in jeopardizing my health while we're camping," Justin told him sensibly, as he tweaked a rigid nipple, earning a soft moan from the other man. "Wouldn't want to risk frost burn or something."

 

"No, of course not," Brian agreed. His body was responding yet again to the other man's talented, roaming hands, which were currently traveling in a southerly direction toward a certain desirable target.

 

"Justin," Brian cautioned the other man, as he reached out and grabbed the wondering hands in one of his. He smiled as he heard a soft sigh of disappointment from the other man. "Keep that up and we'll never get around to packing the rest of our gear. _You're_ the one who wanted to leave first thing in the morning, remember? But if you don't want to…" he suggested, just a little too hopefully.

 

He bit back his own disappointment as the other man hurriedly assured him, "Oh, no, Mr. Kinney….we're still going." Brian abruptly find himself devoid of his favorite, soft blanket as the _blanket_ rose to his feet and quickly slipped on his sweatpants and sneakers. "In fact, I'd better get the rest of our gear in the rental SUV or we won't be able to stick to our schedule."

 

"Schedule?" Brian groaned, sitting up on his elbows to observe his partner once again efficiently scooping up the two sleeping bags, tackle box, and fishing poles. "What's the point of going on vacation if we still have to keep a fucking _schedule_?"

 

"Don't worry…..we'll still keep our _fucking schedule_ , too," Justin joked. He managed to duck just as a throw pillow went whizzing by, barely missing his head. "Nice try," he cracked, still managing to keep a firm hold on his camping gear. He proceeded to walk toward the door and eventually open it by balancing the tackle box against the wall as he pulled the heavy metal door to the side. "Later," Justin threw out, just as disappeared toward the elevators.

 

Brian dropped his head back onto the pillow in defeat. "I am so fucked."


	3. Starting Out

_Early Saturday Morning – The Loft: Day One_

Brian stood on the sidewalk, hands on hips, as he surveyed the rental vehicle Justin had secured for their trip. Walking up to the passenger window, he cupped his hands over his eyes and peered inside the tinted windows. The SUV was packed to the gills; Brian decided it resembled a rolling garage sale. "Justin? Hel-lo? Are you _in_ there?" he called, his voice echoing against the glass. He jumped as Justin spoke directly behind him. "Bri-an," he said. "What are you _doing_? We don't have time for you to joke around. It's getting _late_!" he told the man, exasperated.

 

"I was trying to see if I needed to send in a St. Bernard to rescue you from the avalanche of camping equipment in this fucking, floating _supply barge_!" he growled.

 

"Ha, ha," Justin retorted. "We _need_ all this stuff in order to survive for an entire week out there," he advised the other man. "You won't be able to take a quick jaunt down to the convenience store to buy your guava juice and sushi."

 

"Well, at least we won't need to stock up on toilet paper, because we won't have a fucking _bathroom!"_ he growled.

 

"I beg to differ," Justin returned in a huff. "Just because we won't have a….. _normal_ facility rivaling the Ritz Carlton doesn't mean we still don't need _Charmin_. I am NOT using a sycamore leaf for _this_ bottom."

 

Brian snorted. "Just as well…you wouldn't know the difference between a sycamore leaf and a _poison ivy_ leaf. And it would be such a _shame_ to get that tender, little ass all blotched and pebbly from hives," he sing-songed, reaching around to rub circles on his present subject of concern.

 

"Well, you just leave my _tender little ass_ alone, Mister," Justin retorted, as he adeptly sideswiped the other man's roaming hands, "And get your _SCRAWNY, BONY ass_ in that SUV."

 

Brian smirked as he started to walk around to the driver's side. "Just _where_ do you think YOU'RE going?" Justin demanded haughtily.

 

"Where do you _think_ , Sunshine? I'm driving."

 

"Who _said_?" the blond snarled. "The Stud Police?"

 

"No…..The _You're Too Short to Reach the Pedals of this Vehicle and See Out the Window To DRIVE_ _Police_ , that's who."

 

"Oh…..Okay…Point taken," he acknowledged grudgingly. "I tell you what – you drive and I'll be the backseat driver in the front seat."

 

"Oh, goody…I'm all a twitter with _that_ thought," Brian cracked, opening the driver's side and getting behind the wheel. Justin smiled at him prettily as he sat down in the passenger seat and dangled the rental keys out to him.

 

Brian accepted the keys and inserted the proper one in the ignition. He soon found out, however, that he was not starting the vehicle fast enough. "Well, what are you _waiting_ for?" Justin asked dramatically, as he reached down on the floor and pulled out a dorky, beige-colored fisherman's hat, complete with lures hanging down from the brim. Brian took one look at his partner's head adornment and couldn't help letting a laugh escape.

 

"You are such a fucking _twat_ ," he replied, looking up at the blond head now covered partially with the tacky hat.

 

"Well, we'll see how much of a _fucking twat_ I am when I catch the most fish," he announced. He smacked the dashboard with his hand as Brian jumped again, startled. "Let's get this show on the road," Justin, the backseat driver in the front seat, announced authoritatively.

 

As his heart eventually began to beat normally again, Brian muttered, "Good thing I don't have to back up – I wouldn't be able to _SEE anything_ ," before he turned the key to start the vehicle and slowly pulled away from the curb. Even so, he couldn't help thinking to himself; _it's going to be a LONG week._

 

* * *

 

_An Hour Later_

 

"Country roads…Take me home…..To the place I belong…West Virginia!…..Mountain Mama!….Take me home…..country roads."

 

"Justin, I swear to God…..If you utter one more fucking syllable of that inane song again, I will stop this SUV and boot your perky little ass _OUT!"_ Brian snarled in irritation, as he reached over and placed his hand firmly over the other's man mouth. "OW!" He cried out, as he felt a set of teeth bite down on the fleshy part of his palm. He quickly snatched his hand back. "You fucking _vampire_!"

 

Justin had the gall to giggle as Brian placed his hand in his mouth to suck on the painful bite mark. _WHY did he ever agree to this?_ Brian quickly pushed the eject button on the console as he asked, "Where in the hell did you find a CD of John Denver's greatest hits, anyway?" Brian asked. "You sure didn't get it out of MY collection."

 

"My mom let me borrow it," the other man answered cheerfully. "She thought it would set the right mood, since that's our destination."

 

"Oh, it sets the mood, all right," Brian snapped. "The _I must be out of my MIND_ mood."

 

"Oh, lighten up, old man," Justin teased. "Where's your pioneer spirit?"

 

Brian rolled his eyes. "I don't know...I must have left it back at the loft along with my musket and hard tack."

 

"Hard tack?" Justin asked, frowning.

 

"Never mind…..just Google it when you get home…IF we ever manage to _get_ home, that is. Speaking of which, couldn't we just pitch the tent out in the back yard of Britin and call it an adventure?" he asked, hopefully.

 

Justin grinned. "Nice try. Nope, nope, nope," he sing-songed, as Brian groaned. The blond reached over to pat the other man's arm patronizingly. "It will be okay, Brian… _I'll_ protect you."

 

"Oh, I feel much better now…..I was really worried there for a while, because I forgot to bring my elephant gun."

 

"Ha, ha," Justin retorted. He reached inside the glove compartment to pull out a brochure he had obtained for their destination, Cacapon State Park in Berkley Hills, WV. Peering at the calendar of events for the month, he promptly put his foot in his mouth. "Oh, look!" he cried, excitedly. "We'll get there just in time for the Appalachian Festival!" He began to read off the main list of festivities. "Authentic food, crafts, fiddle-playing music…" He could have sworn the temperature in the vehicle suddenly cooled by several degrees as he dared a look over at his partner, whose knuckles were turning white from their death grip on the steering wheel. "Uh…maybe we'll skip that after all," he impetuously decided.

 

"Smart boy," Brian snarled, nodding. "Besides, you'll be too busy washing the clothes by our babbling brook and shooting us a possum for dinner."

 

"Vittles…it's vittles."

 

"Vittles?"

 

"Yeah…..that's what they call it on the _Beverly Hillbillies_ ," Justin informed him, his voice abruptly taking on a decidedly southern twang.

 

"Oh, my God. We've only been in West Virginia for what, thirty minutes? And you've already been converted."

 

"I'm just trying to become assimilated," his partner insisted.

 

"Your body's about to be taken over by some alien with a southern accent?"

 

"No, you asshole...I'm not talking about the Borg. I just want to immerse myself in West Virginia culture, that's all."

 

"West Virginia has _culture?_ What, moonshine and coal miners?" Brian asked sarcastically.

 

"Be nice, Brian…..I mean, look around you at all the mountains. Aren't they beautiful? I can't wait to see the park. Two thousand acres of scenic, wooded wilderness."

 

"Two thousand acres of woods to get _lost_ in. And I don't mean in a mystical, life-altering way."

 

Justin huffed in exasperation. "Brian...let's look at the good side to this." As Brian glanced over at him skeptically, the younger man sighed. "We have one whole week with no work…... _right?_ I repeat…...Right?" he asked the other man pointedly, intense blue eyes staring at him.

 

Several tense seconds later, there was finally a somewhat grudgingly spoken response. "Yeah, yeah, okay…..no work," he grumbled. "Unless there's an emergency," he muttered under his breath.

 

"What was that, Brian? I didn't quite get that last sentence."

 

"I said I'm looking forward to merging with nature…..You were saying?"

 

Justin pursed his lips together to keep the smile from escaping; he chose to ignore his partner's last statement, even though he had actually heard it clearly enough. "As I was saying…we have one whole week with no work, no worries, no traffic….just you, me and Mother Nature."

 

Brian cracked, "I'm sorry, Sunshine…..I do don't orgies with women."

 

Justin rolled his eyes upward. _God help us._ "Well, you won't have to worry about that, Mr. Kinney. I don't plan on sharing you with anyone else this week, either," he informed the brunet huskily. To back up his statement, he reached over and slowly gave the other man's thigh a short squeeze.

 

"Glad to hear it, blonde boy, because I don't share _my_ toys, ever. But just one thing…Before we fuck, get rid of that obnoxious hat – it kind of kills the mood."

 

Justin crossed his fingers symbolically over his chest. "I promise only to use it when I'm trout fishing…cross my heart," he told the other man solemnly. "I don't _need_ to wear it when we fuck – I've already caught _that_ big fish."

 

"Twat," Brian growled affectionately. He would never tell the other man how right he was, though; he DID have him…..hook, line, and sinker.


	4. The "Bear" Necessities

_Cacapon State Park – Berkley Hills, West Virginia_

 

As they finally reached their destination, Brian slowed down to gaze longingly at the majestic but rustic-looking lodge in the park, nestled among a thick thatch of mature hardwood trees; it was a massive, two-story structure made of solid oak and featured long balconies for each suite on the second floor. He was dreaming of a long, hot leisurely shower combined with a quick fuck for good measure and a nice, pillow-top mattress with sateen sheets for sleeping before he was rudely jolted back to reality by the pushy backseat driver sitting next to him in the passenger seat. "Keep going," he was sternly told, as Justin peered at him over the edge of the park map he was holding. "Our campsite's still two miles up the road."

 

" _Our campsite's still two miles up the road,_ " he parroted. "You know," he growled, "Most _civilized_ people use a GPS nowadays for directions, not a human version of Rand-McNally."

 

"You're just grumpy because we've been cooped up in this SUV for the last two hours. You'll feel a lot better once we reach our campsite and you can stretch your legs."

 

"You're _half_ right, blonde boy," Brian retorted. "I'm grumpy because I've been cooped up in an SUV for two hours with an annoying, incessantly-talking, know-it-all _twat_." He heard a distinctive humpff from the passenger side. "You disagree with that statement, Sunshine?"

 

"I most certainly do," he was told. "I am NOT annoying."

 

Brian scowled, clearly not amused. For a few minutes, though, he relished the unusual silence that suddenly permeated the vehicle's interior after his last statement. Realizing how highly odd THAT was, he glancing over at his partner and noticed him seemingly engrossed in studying a brochure he held in his hands. "What are you perusing with such interest? The newest edition of Camping Digest?"

 

"No…..sorry to disappoint you. It's information the park mailed to me on what to do if you encounter a black bear."

 

Justin thought he distinctly heard a hitch in the brunet's voice as he tried to sound nonchalant when he answered. "Black bears? As in tall, furry, 300 pound, black bears with razor-sharp teeth?"

 

"Yep," Justin answered just a little too cheerily for the other man's taste. "But don't worry, Mr. Kinney, this brochure tells you all about what to do if you meet up with one."

 

"Oh, really. What – you hold out your hand to shake its paw? Ask how the missus is?"

 

"No…..listen," Justin admonished him sternly, as he read from the pamphlet. "Tip No. 1: Do not feed the bears."

 

_Oh, Come on. This is TOO easy_. "Not even twinkies?" he smirked.

 

" _Especially_ not twinkies. Much too rich and creamy for their taste."

 

A sudden vision of his _own_ version of a rich and creamy twinkie suddenly invaded his thoughts and he had to clamp down on the _rise_ that comment had suddenly created. In his best intellectual imitation, he replied solemnly, "I see….Now I almost hate to ask. What is Tip No. 2?"

 

"If you encounter a bear, do not run."

 

"Are you shitting me? I hate to tell you this, Sunshine, but if I meet up with Smokey Bear, I'm NOT sticking around to find out how to prevent forest fires. My ass and I are _out_ of there!"

 

"I guess we don't have to worry about Tip No. 3, then: Do not approach the bear to get a better look."

 

"Don't worry – not going to happen. That's what _zoos_ are for. I think they look most attractive in confined spaces, don't you?"

 

"Uh, huh. Well, I especially like No. 4: If the bear obviously knows you are there, raise your arms to let the bear know you are human. Make yourself as big as possible." Justin stared over at Brian. "I guess you could raise your hand and show him your Rolex to prove you're human."

 

Brian snorted. "And I could stroke your cock to make you as _large_ as possible…..but it still wouldn't be _large enough_ , though," he cracked, as he peered over at the slender blond, who simply huffed in response. "What other words of wisdom does your brochure say?"

 

"Tip No. 5: If a bear closely approaches you, drop any food you are carrying and continue backing up."

 

"Well, that won't be a problem, since we won't be eating anything substantial while we're camping….hope the bear likes nuts, berries and granola…..… Are you _sure_ you're not reading a comedy routine from some local vaudeville show? Who makes these things _up_?"

 

Justin bit his lip and smiled. "There's one more…..if the bear _does_ make contact with you, fight back with everything you have."

 

"Oh, good…..I feel much better now. I'll just throw him a fish and hit him over the head with one of your camping skillets. If that doesn't work, I'll just push YOU out in front. Problem solved."

 

"Ha, ha…I always _knew_ you cared. Just don't blame me when a large grizzly comes charging at us and you don't get out of the way in time because you didn't take these instructions seriously," he chided the other man. "Remember…..only YOU can prevent a bear from having you for dinner."

 

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. _How in the HELL did he let Justin talk him into this? The sex better be MORE than hot in that sleeping bag – it'd better be SMOKING hot._

 

"How much farther, mom?" he asked his partner, in his best child's imitation voice. "Are we there yet?" he whined nasally.

 

Justin smacked him quickly on the arm. "There should be a turnoff coming up on the left…..Yeah, there it is. Turn left."

 

"Yes, mom," Brian told him dutifully in falsetto. He noticed the heavily-wooded roadway in the park was slowly becoming steeper and more elevated as they traveled each subsequent mile.

 

"According to the guide here, our site should be the fourth drive up on the right." Brian looked over at his partner, who sat up straighter in his seat, his eyes now shining with excitement. How could this man get so worked up over a patch of grass, some trees, and mosquitoes? But there was no mistaking the anticipation on his face – he was almost _glowing_ with it. Brian sighed softly. _The things you talk me into, Sunshine._

 

Justin grabbed the other man's sleeve in almost a death grip. "Slow _down_!" He commanded. "We'll miss our turnoff!"

 

"And that would be a problem _how_?" Brian asked sarcastically. "Okay, okay," he added as Justin glared at him.

 

"There…..turn right," Justin instructed him, as a primitive wooden sign announced the name of their private camping site: _Waterfall Vista._ The unpaved drive was surrounded by mainly pine trees.

 

"How quaint," Brian observed. "Let's hope bears don't like to bathe under a waterfall."

 

Justin gave him an exasperated look. "Well, at least you'll be able to stay _clean_."

"What's the fun in _that?_ I prefer _dirty…..very, very, dirty."_ Of course, the leering look in the brunet's eyes told Justin just what type of _dirty_ fun he had in mind…..Well, he supposed he could be accommodating when the circumstances warranted it, he decided, smiling to himself.

 

As the two men continued to gaze out the window, the narrow, winding gravel drive took them approximately one more mile, the elevation continuing to steeply rise with each twist and turn. "I hope old Nellie here had her oil changed, or we may be pushing it the last quarter mile," Brian surmised.

 

Fortunately, their camping site appeared as they rounded the next bend. Looking at the cleared area surrounded by tall white pine trees and adjacent mountain peaks on all sides, even Brian had to admit it was a very impressive and yes, beautiful sight. (Although it was not about to admit that to his partner). He distinctively heard Justin, though, let out an "ooh" of delight as he, too, observed what he no doubt would consider their own private Shangri-La. "Brian, this is beautiful," he murmured, his face enraptured as Brian slowed the vehicle and came to a stop. "I can't wait to do some exploring!"

 

Brian rolled his eyes; the only exploring he wanted to do on this trip was on his partner's body as they lay rolled up like two fucking larvae inside their own little sleeping bag cocoon. _Oh, my God…..Look what he's DOING_ _to me already,_ he thought with a start. _I'm waxing POETIC now._ Clearing his throat to try and hopefully also clear up any more lesbionic thoughts, he said aloud, "No exploring, Maw, until you get your tent set up."

 

Justin opened the vehicle door and stood facing Brian, hands on his slender hips. "Excuse me? Until I get MY tent up? When did this become MY tent?" he complained.

 

"When YOU decided we needed to go camping," Brian retorted, reaching up to pick a couple of needles out of his auburn hair as his head brushed up against a rather imposing pine tree. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get acquainted with our modern _bathroom_ facilities," he quipped, as he strolled off to find a proper tree to relieve himself behind.

 

Justin shook his head; was the man going to be this difficult for the entire week? Resolving to not let the man's mood spoil their vacation together, he lifted open the back gate and began to pull the tent box out. Looking around for a good spot to pitch their domed tent, he tugged it over to a cleared area near the stream, but uphill enough to avoid any possible runoff. Dropping the box, he managed to pull the contents out and, after fishing around for it, successfully located the written instructions.

 

An hour later, the tent did not look anything like the streamlined, domed structure that had stood proudly inside Brian's loft a few days before the Liberty Ride. Instead, it most closely resembled a cake that Brian had attempted to make approximately a year ago for Gus' birthday with similar, disastrous results; like the aforementioned cake, one side of the tent was definitely taller than the other. In addition, Justin inexplicably found himself with an extra support pole. Frowning in puzzlement and annoyance, he crossed his arms and stood in front of the tent, intently trying to ascertain just what he had done wrong this time to create such a lumpy looking configuration.

 

He whipped around and glared at the man who was not trying very hard to stifle a definite chuckle at his expense. "What's the matter, Sunshine? Did my widdle Boy Scout fail to earn his patch in proper tent construction?"

 

"Fuck you, Brian!" Justin snarled in irritation. He was tired after being in a car for two hours with a sourpuss and battling with putting up the tent for another hour. "At least I TRIED to put the tent up! And we COULD sleep in it that way if we had to!" he maintained, his lip jutting out in defiance.

 

"Yeah, if you don't mind getting dizzy and having a tent that resembles the _Leaning Tower of Pisa!"_ The words had barely gotten out of his mouth before both men heard a loud crack overhead; they noticed the sky was becoming an ominous shade of gray, and off to the west the clouds were a dark, threatening shade of gray.

 

"Oh, that's just _great_ ," Brian growled. "We've got a tent that looks like a first grader put it together, and it's about to storm."

 

"Well, I wouldn't want to offend your sensibilities," Justin snorted. "Maybe you'd just better find yourself a nice little cave to crawl into instead." Just then, he literally jumped as an even louder crack of thunder boomed overhead; large globes of water slowly began to fall from the sky.

"Shit!" Brian muttered, just before the rain now starting pouring down from above; making a hasty executive decision, he followed Justin as the two men made a quick run for the tent, reaching it just before the rain became an absolute torrent of water. The brunet managed to get the tent zipped up as the two of them backed away from the front flap toward the more protective part of the structure.

 

Justin boasted haughtily, "Well, it may not _look_ pretty, but at least it's keeping us dry," just before Brian commented a little warily, "Uh, Oh. What's that?" The wind, which had whipped up substantially once the rain had began to fall in abundance, partially drowned out the hard tapping now reverberating overhead. "That doesn't sound like rain," he observed a little fearfully.

 

Justin dared to turn and look out of the clear, plastic "window" of their tent to determine why the rain sounded so loud. "That's because it's not rain – its' _hail._ " He had to virtually shout now in an attempt to be heard over the noisy din battering their tent. " _Marble-sized_ hail."

 

Seconds later, the two men heard another loud clap of thunder, just before their not-so-expertly erected tent sagged and collapsed under the weight of the hail now pelting their bodies instead. "Where's the car keys?" Justin yelled, as the two men took off at a dead run for the SUV. Hair plastered to his face, Brian blinked and shook his head to try and clear some of the water out of his eyes as his hand finally wrapped itself around the keys stuck to his now-drenched pants pocket. _Thank God_ _for remote door locks_ , he thought, as he aimed the key fob and saw the lights of the vehicle flash, signaling the doors were unlocked. Flinging the doors open as quickly as they could, both men finally reached the relative security of their SUV, panting heavily from the exertion and both thoroughly soaked to the skin from the downpour.

 

As the hail eventually dissolved into a typical summer storm, the rain continued to pummel their vehicle; it was the only sound heard for several seconds as neither man spoke. Finally, Justin ventured to glance over at Brian, who was attempting unsuccessfully to try and wipe the water out of his eyes with his thoroughly wet shirt sleeve. Reaching back behind the seat, Justin pulled out a knapsack that had miraculously not been taken out of the vehicle yet; fortunately, it contained not only some of their clothes, but a couple of towels as well. Zipping it open, he pulled out one of the towels and extended it to Brian, who, despite looking like the proverbial drowned rug rat, still looked absolutely beautiful to him. Of course, Brian _always_ looked that way to him.

 

Brian peered over at his partner, whose soft, expressive blue eyes were looking at him dejectedly and full of guilt. Staring at his partner's face for a few, tension-laden seconds, he finally accepted the peace offering from the younger man and used it to wipe the water from his face and rub it in his hair to try and dry out. Noticing Justin had another towel out of the bag now, he took it from his hand. As Justin started to utter a somewhat feeble protest over the loss, Brian reached over with the extra towel and began to gently dry the other man's hair and face. He couldn't help using the towel around Justin's neck as leverage to slowly pull him forward and place a slow, gentle kiss on the trembling lips.

 

Justin sighed in relief and looked at his partner tenderly. Brian twisted his face in resignation. _You little shit. You know JUST how to get to me, don't you?_ "Well," he finally replied softly. "You may not be the best Eagle Scout, Sunshine, but at least you had enough sense to rent us an SUV with fold-down backseats. I don't think I've ever fucked in an SUV before."

 

Justin smirked. "Well, I'm glad today wasn't a total loss, then. I'd say it's time we christened this vehicle properly. I could get out the John Denver CD again. I could play " _Sunshine On My Shoulders."_

 

"How appropriate. _But don't even fucking think about it._ I can take care of that part _without_ his help."


	5. I Caught Me a Big One!

_Day Two – Morning_

 

"Brian?" Justin gave the other man a small jab to the waist. He wasn't sure what time it was, but by the look of the quickly-brightening sky and the position of the sun, he figured it had to be at least 10:00 a.m. He was determined to not waste every hour of their camping vacation in bed, either sleeping or fucking; he figured they could always do _that_ at home.

 

"Huh," was the only intelligible grunt Justin received from his partner. He knew the other man was in there _somewhere_ under the tousled mop of auburn hair that was currently resting on the blond's stomach; he could feel Brian's soft breathing tickling his skin. The two men had wound up in a virtual heap of tangled arms and legs after a marathon round of fucking in the SUV last night. After all, with the thunder and lightning that occurred throughout most of the night, they knew they certainly weren't going to get much sleep – so they decided they might as well make good use of their time. _Thank God for fold-down seats,_ Justin thought, as he sought to disentangle his legs from the other man's weight that was currently pinning them down. His legs were beginning to cramp up and he needed to use their campsite's _luxurious bathroom facilities_. The _dead weight_ , however, that was continuing to lie unresponsively on top of him was not being very cooperative in helping him answer the call of nature.

 

"Brian?" Justin repeated, a little louder this time. "I need to go to the bathroom," he told him. He reached down and gently tugged the other man's hair to try and get his attention.

 

"Mmmm. First tree on the left." Instead of helping to free the other man up, however, Brian simply responded by snuggling even more into the soft _pillow_ he was resting on.

 

Justin rolled his eyes. "You're holding me down." He again tried to raise his upper body to scoot out from under the other man, but he was unsuccessful. Defeated, he fell back down with a plop and a snort of frustration.

 

"You never complained before," the head finally mumbled. Justin shivered a little as the man's lips tickled his stomach as he spoke; except for the head, which seemed separate from the rest of the brunet's body, no other part of the man's anatomy was moving….at least not _yet_.

 

"Whhhaaaaa?" Brian muttered suddenly, as he heard a loud noise. He finally raised his head enough to peer up at Justin through sleepy eyes. "What was _that_?" he asked, perturbed.

 

"My stomach's growling," Justin muttered. "I'm hungry and I need to take a piss. But I can't get up!"

 

Brian's hand reached out and grasped his cock as Justin gasped. "Bri-an!" His fingers wrapped themselves firmly around the other man as he began to rub them up and down the shaft.

 

"I'm helping you get _up_ ," he explained, smiling up at the blond in that lazily adorable smirk that always made Justin's heart beat faster. "I'm hungry _too_ , Sunshine." He turned his head so his lips were in line with his favorite meal, but just before he was about to nibble on the first course, a hand came out and smacked him hard on the head.

 

"Hey!" Brian protested, giving the man's cock a tight squeeze for good measure before he reluctantly released his prize. "What'd you do _that_ for?" he growled.

 

Justin scowled at him. "Did you hear what I said, Mr. Kinney? I said my legs are falling asleep and I have to go to the bathroom. Take your long, lanky legs off me so I can get the _rest_ of my body up! You can have your high-protein breakfast _later_! Besides, we still have to get the tent back up! And this time _you're_ going to help me."

 

Brian groaned and temporarily dropped his head back down on Justin's stomach. "Can't we just keep using the fuckmobile instead, Maw….pretty please?" He looked up adoringly at the other man, as if he were asking to keep a new puppy he had just found. Normally, that kind of look got him anything he wanted. _Not this time._

 

"No," his _pillow_ answered him firmly, as he finally was able to remove himself from the other man's hold. "We're going to do this camping vacation the right way, even if it _kills_ you!"

 

"It just _might_ ," Brian muttered in disgust, as his partner opened the door and stepped out, bending over to give the other man a quick wriggle of his ass before he tromped off toward the nearest large tree with his roll of _Charmin_. Before he dropped his head down in defeat, Brian thought he distinctly heard the other man laughing as he walked away.

 

Justin stood near their tent, observing the damage from last night's storm. It was actually fortunate that the tent had collapsed before it had a chance to be torn in two; at least they could reconstruct the tent this way. That was, provided the two of them could figure out how to _do_ it, since their assembly directions had no doubt been blown somewhere into the next county by now. Justin fleetingly thought of humming a few bars of "Blowing in the Wind," but as Brian approached him, he thought perhaps now was not a good time.

 

He felt Brian's arms wrap themselves around him as he enfolded the two of them in one of the oversized sleeping bags they had brought with them; they had fortunately not had time to place them inside the tent last night, or they would have been soaked thoroughly this morning. "I'm still waiting for my breakfast, Sunshine," the other man whispered huskily behind his ear, his cock brushing up against the other man in obvious confirmation of his statement and his whispered words caressing the blond's ear. Justin shivered slightly in response and smiled before he slowly turned around in the other man's embrace. "Well, I suppose my stomach can wait for a little while before it's satisfied."

 

"Good, because I need a little _satisfaction_ myself," he replied softly, seductively. "I _knew_ you would see it my way, Mr. Taylor," Brian drawled, as he tightened his hold on Justin's back and pulled the other man closer to him for a toe-curling kiss. Several seconds later, as their body heat warmed the sleeping bag quickly, he murmured against the blond's cheek, "I think I'm beginning to like this _sharing_ arrangement. Bet they never showed this kind of shit on _Little House on the Prairie."_

 

Justin laughed. "No, probably not, _Paw._ "

 

At the two men looked over at the remains of their tent, Brian sighed, resigned to his fate as a modern Davy Crockett. "Well…I'll make you a deal, _Maw_. If you promise to come back to the SUV to provide me with a _high protein, low carb breakfast_ , I promise to help you put the tent up again…even if it IS against my better judgment." He raised his eyebrows in silent negotiation.

 

Justin smiled. He bit his bottom lip. "Mmmm…..fuck Brian, or put the tent up alone…..put the tent up alone, or fuck Brian. You drive a _hard_ bargain, Mr. Kinney." He stood there for a few seconds, as if deep in contemplative thought before finally declaring, "It's a _hard_ decision, but I choose the first option. Fuck Brian first."

 

"Uh…..excuse me, Mr. Taylor, but you have that just a little wrong. It's _BE_ fucked by Brian first, and _THEN_ he helps put up the tent _._ "

 

"Nah….I like _my_ version better." Justin wiggled his eyebrows invitingly, his expressive, loving eyes full of hope. Brian noticed it was the same tone of voice and tender look Justin had used once before when they ate Chinese at the loft and he told Brian he was going to get the man _crazy_ on the floor, not in their bed. The same, _irresistible_ look he could never say no to.

 

Brian smirked, rolling his lips inward in amusement. "Like you said…..I drive a _hard_ bargain. Very, very hard. But every once in a while, I like to give the help a little thrill, so maybe just this once I'll let YOU drive."

 

Justin grinned. _Let him think HE won…I KNOW better._ "Mmmm….Not sure I like being called the _help_ , Mr. Kinney, but maybe just this once the prize outweighs the insult. Let's go _stoke the fire_ , then," he purred, as Brian reluctantly loosened his hold on the other man just enough to allow the two of them to walk side by side; his arm, however, was still wrapped around Justin's slim waist as they walked back to the SUV for Brian's _breakfast._

 

Finally dressed casually in jeans and sleeveless shirts which were thankfully stowed overnight in the SUV, the two men observed their handiwork an hour later.

 

"Well, it's not the _prettiest_ tent I've ever seen, but at least it looks a lot better than last night," Justin observed as he wiped his brow which was drenched in sweat. The tent still looked a little lumpy, but at least he was satisfied it would withstand a typical storm now; hopefully their days of enduring marble-sized hail were over for the duration of their vacation.

 

Brian nodded. "It just took an expert's touch," he boasted, getting a slight jab from the other man in return. The brunet scowled at him before asking, "So what's on the agenda for today, Mr. Taylor? Chopping down a tree with Paul Bunyan's ax? Trapping a coon for lunch? Catching a trout with your teeth?"

 

"This is supposed to be a _vacation_ , Brian, not a lumberjack competition," he reminded the other man good-naturedly. "Actually, I thought we could rent a canoe from the lodge and go fishing…..with _poles_ , not our teeth," he clarified. He bit his lip in thought as looked around their gear currently stashed just outside the tent. "Now where did I put my hat?"

 

"Oh, no, Sunshine," Brian admonished him as he told hold of the other man's arm. "I have an _image_ to uphold. If you're dragging me out on some godforsaken lake to go _fishing_ , you are NOT wearing that fucking dorky hat."

 

"But I need the _lures_! Besides, you wouldn't want my delicate, creamy skin to get all red and blistered, would you?" he batted his eyelashes coyly at the other man.

 

"No unless I'm spanking your cute little tight ass to _get it that way_!" Brian agreed, as he reached around and demonstrated his technique. "Didn't you bring any other hat?" he asked desperately as Justin shook his head. "A beach umbrella?"

 

"You expect me to hold one in my hand and a fishing pole in the _other?_ NO, Brian, I did NOT bring a beach umbrella," he scolded the other man, who continued to look at him with disgust. Brian decided Versace would be turning over in his grave right now if he saw him out on that lake with Justin wearing that hideous, atrocious hat.

 

"Please?" _God – there's that soft, pleading voice and those brilliant blue, puppy-dog eyes again. Don't fucking LOOK at me like that, you little twat!_

 

He sighed and crossed his arms. "If I ever so as much as see _anyone_ here who remotely resembles any person I have ever known in my _lifetime_ , I will NOT acknowledge that we know each other as long as you insist on wearing that, that….. _hardware_ store that you call a HAT! Do you understand?"

 

Justin threw his arms around the other man's neck, raining butterfly kisses all over his nape and cheek as he nuzzled the other man affectionately. "Thank you, Brian!" he cried. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't wait to get OUT there!" He began to excitedly start to rush over to the SUV before something occurred to him and he turned around. "You _have_ been in a canoe before, haven't you?" he asked the other man, his slender hands on his hips as he eyed Brian intently.

 

"Well….."Brian stammered. "Uh, no, actually I haven't, Sunshine. But how _hard_ can it be? It's not like they're motorized or anything. All we have to do is row the canoe out far enough in the water to do a little fishing. Come on – how tough could it _be_?"

 

Justin eyed him warily. "Uh, huh," he said, not convinced at all of the other man's adroitness with oars. Although, he had to admit, the man certainly did have a way with _other_ poles _._ Against his better judgment, then, he decided to take a chance; he _DID_ want to try his hand at trout fishing. "Okay, then," he stammered a little, as Brian looked at him innocently. "The poles are still in the back of the SUV. Let's get going – our lunch awaits." He began to walk toward the vehicle, but he noticed to his consternation that Brian just stood where he was, rooted to his spot. "What?" he asked the other man.

 

"Uh…. _our LUNCH awaits_? Tell me that means we're eating at the lodge today." Brian looked at him hopefully. Why did he have a sneaking feeling that they were about to eat something _really_ fresh…maybe even still wiggling?

 

Justin stared at him in exasperation; was the man not listening to _anything_ he said? "Bri-an," he answered, clearly vexed. "I thought we had already covered this. We're supposed to be _camping_. As in pitching a tent, cooking over a camp stove, and catching fish for our dinner. So far all we've done is fuck all night in the back of an SUV because the tent blew down and now you want to eat at the lodge?" The blond stood defiantly, hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently. "That's not _camping_ ," he insisted, blue eyes flashing in annoyance. "We could do that at _home_. Where's your pioneer spirit?"

 

"To me, having pioneer spirit means having to settle for a foam pillow instead of a feather one," Brian replied grumpily. He slumped in dread; he was _afraid_ that was what his partner meant. He prayed internally that they would have absolutely rotten luck with their fishing before he added out loud, "Okay, Sunshine. It was worth a try. We'll try it _your_ way." Damn twat – how did he ever get involved with someone like _this_? Oh, yeah…..he saw this beautiful, sexy-in-an-innocent-kind-of-way angel one night and took him home for an all-night fucking session, and he never left. _Damn_.

 

Justin smiled, happy that his partner was agreeing to go fishing with him. He had serious doubts that Brian would be able to bait a hook, let alone actually catch a fish, but deep down he really didn't mind. He figured he could catch enough for both of them, and he would have the man's company in the meantime. _I wonder how easy it is to fuck in a canoe?_ he fleetingly thought.

 

He walked over to the other man, stood up on his tiptoes, and pulled Brian's head down for a sloppy, passionate kiss and tongue-wrestling match. Several seconds later while Brian had a goofy, lust-filled smile on his face, Justin took his hand and walked him over to the SUV before he had a chance to change his mind. Satisfied once the man was actually sitting behind the driver's seat, he walked around and got into the passenger seat. "Oh, good," he said, reaching down to pick up his hat from the floor and putting it on. "I found it." He turned and smiled at Brian, who simply rolled his eyes and turned the key in the ignition.

 

"Just remember our rule, Sunshine. I see anyone who remotely knows me or Kinnetik in any way, shape, or form, and I _don_ ' _t_ KNOW you. Capiche?" he asked pointedly, as he slowly steered the SUV around and back out of the private drive toward the lodge.

 

Justin smiled. "I got it…..don't worry. Who would we possibly run into out here in the boondocks?"

 

* * *

 

_Capacon Lodge – Berkley Hills, WV_

 

It was nearly noon, and the lodge's grand dining room was alive with hungry visitors. The lodge's cuisine was well-known throughout the region, so they not only served guests of the lodge itself but also several diners who were there simply for a delicious, southern-cooked meal. Plates of buttermilk fried chicken, grilled pork chops, and fresh rainbow trout were flying out of the kitchen as fast as the wait staff could carry them. Two men dining in a corner of the room were largely ignored by the other diners as they dined on their specials of turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes with gravy, and fresh green beans.

 

"Now THIS is to die for," Emmett declared enthusiastically, as he savored another bite of the tender, roasted turkey, dipping it in the gravy and letting it linger on his tongue. "Try it," he encouraged his companion, as he stabbed another bite of the turkey and reached over to feed it to Calvin. The brunet congenially obliged him, accepting the proffered bite, even though he had the same exact food on his plate, also.

 

"Mmmm," he agreed. "It _IS_ terrific." He looked around at the oak wood paneling, large stone fireplace, and antique photos scattered throughout the two-story room. "I still can't believe your friend agreed to pay for us to come here," he marveled. "Seems like so little to do in exchange for a weekend at _this_ place. This is great, Em," his friend raved. "Reminds me a little of back home."

 

Em nodded. "Yeah, makes me think of my wonderful Aunt Lula," he sighed wistfully. "She was just the _greatest_ cook." He looked behind Cal toward the kitchen. "Hey, remind me before we leave to talk to the cook. I simply _must_ get his recipe for the fried chicken we had last night. It was _scrumptious._ I can't wait to try it out for my next catering order."

 

He suddenly heard someone calling him. "Em? Is that _YOU?_ "

 

Emmett turned around and was stunned to see Michael and Ben standing next to their chairs. "Michael! Professor! What are _YOU_ two doing here of all places?" He stood up quickly to give the two men a quick hug. "You remember Cal, don't you?" he asked, as both men nodded and greeted the dark-haired man.

 

"Why don't you join us?" Em sat back down and scooted his chair over so they would have room as the two men sat down at their table.

 

"I still can't believe you ran into us here of all places…..I mean, what would be the odds?" Em chirped.

 

Ben and Michael exchanged knowing looks. "Yeah," Michael said. "What would be the odds?" He twisted his mouth in a smirk. "Em...You wouldn't by chance by here at the invitation of someone else, would you?" he asked suddenly; Emmett's abrupt look of guilt all but confirmed his suspicions.

 

Michael laughed. "Oh, no," he cried. "You ARE! Let me guess – JUSTIN invited you here, didn't he?"

 

Emmett fidgeted awkwardly in his seat. "Justin?" he replied innocently. "Why, uh why would you think that, Michael?" he asked, trying hard to appear nonchalant.

 

Michael and Ben laughed conspiratorially as they nudged their heads together. "Maybe because _Brian_ invited _US_ here, too…to play with Justin's head while they're camping up the road. Justin didn't by any chance ask you to do the same thing, did he?"

 

Emmett laughed and clapped his hands. "Oh, my God! This is TOO funny! What did _Brian_ ask you to do?" he asked curiously, his eyes dancing with mischief. As the couple divulged Brian's plans, Emmett smiled. "Oh, this is too good to pass up….I've got an idea," he informed them.

 

* * *

 

_Cacapon Lodge – Dock Area_

 

Brian eyed the weather-worn, dented canoe with extreme trepidation. The floating object had obviously seen better days, if its appearance was any indication. Paint was peeling off and there were numerous scrapes down the entire side of the metal craft. "Uh, Justin? Have you taken a look at this _thing_?" he asked the other man dubiously.

 

Justin's eyes narrowed. "You're still not trying to back out, are you?" he asked his partner with irritation. "You _promised_ , Brian," he reminded the other man, as he held up a pair of oars the dock manager had given him a few minutes ago.

 

Brian sighed; for the umpteenth time he wondered how in the hell he had ever agreed to do this…this _camping_ thing. And the thought of a wriggling, slimy, beady-eyed fish staring at him from the end of a hook did not fill him with excitement. Instead, it made his stomach feel nauseous and his palms sweaty, especially when he thought about it becoming his dinner later. As he looked over at his partner, the young man's face as always so reflective of his emotions, he realized why he had agreed; he _loved_ the little shit. _Damn him_. Resigned to his fate, he slowly ambled over to Justin and accepted the oars he was holding out toward him.

 

Justin smiled in victory as he handed the oars to Brian and gave him a short kiss before he turned around and with his back to the other man, bent over _ever so slowly_ to pick up the other pair of oars. He heard a growl behind him before he could turn around. "Get busy or I'll think of _another_ use for these paddles," Brian warned, just before he landed a short smack on the other man's ass with one of the oars.

 

"Ow! Fuck, Brian!" Justin cried in mock irritation, as he quickly stood fully upright and turned around, rubbing his butt cheek.

 

"I _warned_ you," Brian reminded him, smirking. "Now pick up your gear and get that perky little ass in the canoe before I change my mind!" He marched over to the nearby canoe which was bobbing gently up and down near the shore and cautiously stepped into the worn craft before sitting down. Justin continued to stare at him for a few seconds before he finally gave a slight huff and picked up his tackle box and pole. Balancing the poles under his arm, he strode over to the canoe and placed the fishing equipment inside. As Brian watched in amusement, Justin tried to raise his leg up to step into the canoe with his oars but he couldn't quite raise his limb high enough.

 

He watched, smiling, as Justin finally threw the oars into the canoe in a fit of irritation, barely missing the other man, and stepped, side saddle, over the lip of the craft. Brian caught him just before he would have stumbled and fallen in. As the blond landed in his lap, Brian whispered seductively, "Looks like I caught a _big_ one," before he grasped the other man's head firmly and planted a slow, lingering kiss on the full, pouting lips. He felt Justin's hands automatically wrapping themselves around his waist as the kiss deepened and tongues came out to battle in their familiar, sweet duel.

 

As the kiss eventually ended several seconds later, Brian breathlessly whispered against his partner's cheek, " _Holy mackerel, Sunshine."_

 

Justin chuckled and smacked him on the back, reluctantly rising from his tantalizing perch to take his place on the opposite seat facing his partner. "Ready?" he asked the other man excitedly, his eyes shining with anticipation.

 

Brian looked over at the man who had stolen his heart so long ago. _The things I do for you, Sunshine,_ he thought before he smiled at him and nodded. "Ready, Maw. Let's go catch us some Charley Tuna." He picked up his oars and prepared to place them into the water before Justin instructed him, "The other way, Brian."

 

"Huh?"

 

"The oars," Justin explained, as he covered his mouth to hide his smile and keep the laughter from bubbling out. "They go in the _other way_." He held up his oars and placed them correctly in the water to demonstrate.

 

"I knew that," Brian contended stubbornly, as he turned his pair of oars around and placed them in the water. "I was just checking to make sure _you_ knew."

 

"Uh, huh…sure," Justin murmured knowingly. He watched as Brian waited until he had began the back and forth motion needed to get the canoe in motion before he, too, mimicked Justin's arm movements and the canoe finally began to press off from the shoreline.

 

They were a few hundred yards from the bank in a fairly short amount of time, due in large part to the two partners quickly developing a synchronized method of rowing together. "Not much different than fucking," Brian boasted. "We always did have good timing with that," he smirked. "But this is not nearly as _satisfying_ ," he decided, laughing as he received a slight blush from the other man; he still loved it when he could that.

 

"See," Justin said. "This isn't so bad, is it?" He asked, as they finally stopped far enough out from the shore. He noticed Brian had relaxed somewhat now as the sun had helped warm up the moderate temperature.

 

"No, it isn't, Sunshine," Brian admitted, smiling. He leaned back a little as he felt the warm breeze from the lake caressing his face. "Kind of nice, actually. Except for the stinky fish, at least. Maybe I'll leave that up to you and I'll just _enjoy the scenery_ ," he decided, staring at the enraptured face of his partner as he positively glowed with happiness.

 

_No…..This might not be bad at all_ , he decided, just before he slowly became aware of his shoes getting wet. As he looked down curiously at his feet to see where the source of the liquid was, at first he couldn't quite grasp what was happening. "Uh, Sunshine…"

 

Justin was currently feeling no pain; here they were, out in the fresh open air, just Brian and him, alone together. No worries, no interruptions, just peace and quiet. Nature and birds. And water…in the canoe.

 

"What the fuck?" He suddenly raised his sneakered feet as he became aware of them getting wet in rapid fashion. He noticed with horror that water was somehow leaking into the canoe, quickly rising by the second.

 

"This is not good, this is not good," Brian chanted in a repeating mantra. "Water in the canoe, water in the canoe….Fuck!" he spat out, standing up. "Get a bucket!" he yelled.

 

"We don't HAVE a bucket!" Justin retorted, as he, too, stood up, as though that would somehow make the water seep into the canoe more slowly. "What do we _do_?" he asked the other man frantically, as water now crept up toward his knees.

 

"Are there sharks in this lake?" Brian asked with concern, his face etched with worry.

 

"Don't be fucking ridiculous, Brian!" Justin shouted at him in aggravation. "This is a _lake –_ NOT the Atlantic Ocean! There AREN'T any sharks in fresh water – just piranhas."

 

Brian jumped up in the boat, nearly causing it to topple. "What?"

 

"I'm just _KIDDING_ , Brian! I'm sure the fish are more scared of you than you are of _them_! What are we going to _do_?" he repeated, as the water continued to rise up to his knees this time. He watched as his tackle box and pole started to float on the dark green, murky water.

 

Brian looked at him in consternation, eyebrows narrowed in disgust as he saw his brand new pair of Armani jeans and Gucci loafers being soaked and ruined from the drenching they were getting. "What do you _think_ , Sunshine!" he yelled. "Unless Flipper swims by and we hitch a ride on his fins, we'll have to _swim!"_

 

"What? Do you know how far away the shoreline is from here?" Justin protested vehemently. The water continued to lap against his legs, almost up to his thighs now, as he stood there with his hands crossed against his chest.

 

"Have you got a _better_ idea?" Brian asked pointedly, as he looked down at his wet clothing. "You know, I'm really getting fucking tired of being a wet dishrag on vacation," he pointed out, as he stared daggers at his partner.

 

"And that's _MY_ fault?" Justin argued back, his eyes flashing.

 

"You asked me to come," Brian pointed out, as the water now reached his waist. "Can we argue about this later, though?" he inquired sensibly. "I need to conserve my energy for the doggy paddle now," he declared, just before he rolled his eyes in dread and half dove, half jumped into the lake. "Get your lily white ass in the water and start paddling!" he commanded his partner as he treaded in the cold water; Justin finally obeyed as he, too, half dove off the now leaning vessel and landed in the water, quickly bobbing back up close to Brian.

 

"You CAN swim, can't you?" the brunet asked Justin.

 

"Isn't it a little late to ask me that NOW?" he answered tartly, as he splashed some water into the other man's face and turned around, his arms coming up over his head as he started swimming toward land. He looked briefly back to make sure Brian was doing the same before he resumed his aquatic exercise.

 

Fifteen minutes later, totally soaked and breathing heavily, the two partners lay on a private part of the shore, spent and gasping for breath. The two men just lay there on their backs, the hot sun beating down on them, as they waited for their rapid pulses to slow and they were able to regain their voices.

 

Finally, Brian was the first to say anything. "Well, that went well, didn't it?" he snarled softly in between breaths. Even after several minutes, he still couldn't quite speak in a normal conversational tone. He thought about how it was a lot like after he and Justin had spent several hours fucking in all kinds of positions, only this exercise was definitely _not_ as pleasurable.

 

Justin turned his head to peer at the other man, trying to gauge what he was feeling; their clothing was plastered tightly to both of their bodies, but their shoes had miraculously remained on. How, he didn't know. He figured it didn't matter, anyway, because there was no question that Brian's expensive clothing was totally, absolutely ruined. He realized it was ridiculous, also, but he couldn't help thinking how hot Brian looked lying there, his clothes tightly sculptured to his body like shrink wrap; highlighting each toned, elegant feature. His breath hitched in his throat as he thought about how beautiful his partner was and how much he loved him at that moment for agreeing to this vacation that was so outside his comfort zone.

 

Brian returned the other man's gaze as his own thoughts mirrored Justin's. As he looked at the slender body lying there, his chest heaving from the exertion and his blond hair plastered to his pale face, Brian strangely did not feel the anger he thought he would feel at their predicament. Instead, as the other man looked at him with those soft blue, luminescent eyes, he could only think of how much this man had changed him for the better, and how empty his life would be without him. He noticed the other man's apprehension – no doubt fear over what his reaction would be. Did he really think he could stay mad at him, even after almost _drowning_ him?

 

Rolling over to Justin so that he was now lying on top of him, he reached down and gently brushed the wet hair away from his forehead, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss where the hair had been. He heard Justin sigh softly just before the blond wrapped his arms around the man's back. Brian lowered his body weight down upon Justin fully, feeling the other man's heartbeat pulsing rapidly underneath him. As they lay there wrapped up in each other, neither man spoke at first as slowly their breathing returned to a more normal rhythm.

 

After a few minutes, Brian finally rolled off Justin and lay close to him, their hands twined together on Justin's chest. The two men turned their heads to look at each other, so much like they often did after making love in their bed at the loft.

 

Brian smiled slightly in reassurance as Justin returned the action, relieved. "Well, Sunshine, I'll say one thing. You sure don't make my life dull."

 

Justin grimaced. "I guess it _would_ be nice to participate in more _dry_ activities for a while," he concurred, as he reached out with his free hand to wring the water from his shirt tail.

 

Brian rolled his eyes as Justin suddenly raised his head to ask, "Where's my hat?" He looked around and noticed it was miraculously lying nearby; he had taken it off his head and grasped it in his hand as he swam toward shore after their canoe had capsized. He was strangely heartened to know it had survived their adventure.

 

"Forget the fucking hat, Justin," Brian admonished him, as he noticed the other man's strange expression. "What is it?" he asked, concerned, as he sat up next to the other man.

 

"My hat…..it's _moving_ ,"he observed, pointing to the hat that was jerking and gyrating wildly.

 

"Don't," Brian cried, as Justin reached toward the hat. "It might be a snake," he lectured. Justin looked at him disbelievingly as he leaned over to turn the hat over; Brian shrunk back just as his partner touched the nerdy looking piece of apparel.

 

He heard Justin let out a laugh as he turned back around to see what was so funny. "Well, looks like we'll have fish for dinner after all," he observed, as he held up the hat that contained a plump looking, violently wriggling trout. "Do you want it grilled or fresh?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

 

"Neither," Brian decided firmly; Justin let out a yelp of protest as Brian reached over and grabbed the writhing fish by the tail, lobbing it into the air as it hit the water with a smack.

 

"What'd you do _that_ for?" Justin asked him in annoyance. "I worked _hard_ for that fish!" His look of outrage was enough to make Brian laugh out loud, a reaction that was not lost on his partner, who soon joined him as he grinned wryly.

 

As Brian pulled his partner back down to hold him in his arms, he murmured, "Don't worry, Sunshine….We've got _bigger fish_ to fry." They were too far away and much too busy quickly taking off each other's clothes to fuck to hear the roiling laughter coming from their friends down at the boat dock.

 


	6. Control; I Must Learn Control!

As Brian and Justin trudged back toward the park lodge, the enticing smells of fried chicken and grilled fish filled their nostrils. "Something smells good," Brian marveled in appreciation. Except for his _high protein, low carb Justin_ _breakfast_ this morning, the two of them hadn't had a chance to eat yet and it was mid-afternoon already.

 

"Well, thanks to your _fly fishing_ demonstration earlier, we don't have any fish to cook for dinner," Justin pointed out disappointingly. "I was really hoping to try out a trout recipe for you on the gas stove. Now I'll have to use the Spam," he grimaced. "It just won't be the same," he sighed.

 

Brian gave him an incredulous look. "Tell me you're talking about some type of computer gibberish."

 

"Huh?" was the intelligent reply.

 

" _Spam_ ," Brian clarified, repeating the word slowly with dread. "I could have sworn you just said something about cooking with _Spam_." Brian's voice tripped over the word as he repeated it again, pronouncing it as if it were the same thing as a dead mouse.

 

Justin let out a huff. "Well, I know it probably offends your sensibilities, but yes, I said Spam. As in _take it out of a can and eat it Spam._ " As Brian looked at him horrified, Justin scrunched up his nose in thought. "Maybe the Southwest Spam and Beans recipe. Or, I know! The Spam and Potatoes! I can put that in the aluminum foil and grill it together." He started to rattle off in his head what ingredients he would need while Brian continued to look at him as if he were growing another head.

 

The blond was so lost in thought over what he would need to get their meal started that he didn't notice that his partner had stopped dead in his tracks; Brian would be the first to admit he was ravenous at the moment, for _food_ this time, but even HE had his limits of tolerance.

 

He grasped the younger man's upper arms as the two collided with each other and Justin let out an _oomph_!

 

"Bri-an! Next time _tell me_ when you're going to stop! You almost knocked me down!" he protested, as he mentally began anew what ingredients he would need for his recipe, seemingly ignoring the fact that Brian was continuing to hold his arms firmly.

 

"Justin? _JUSTIN….._ Are you listening to me? Hello?" he shook the other man slightly until he finally noticed Justin's eyes focusing on him.

 

Irritated that he would have to start over yet again with his internal list, Justin glared back at him in annoyance. "Yes, Brian, I'm listening to you. _What_?"

 

"Hear me loud and hear me clear, Sunshine," Brian enunciated. "I will go fishing with you…I will sleep in a goddamn tent with you in a moldy, mildew-laden sleeping bag, I will go pick berries and nuts with you and I will even wipe your bouncy little ass with _Charmin_ if I have to. But I will NOT, I repeat NOT, be caught _dead_ eating anything that has the word _SPAM_ in it!" He then abruptly released the other man and crossed his arms over his chest insolently, a " _So there!_ " look on his face.

 

Justin rolled his eyes in vexation. And he called _HIM_ a drama queen. He placed his hands on his hips. "Okay, have it YOUR way, _Mr. Kinney_ ," he said haughtily. "You can just _do without_ for the rest of the day. Because may I kindly point out that while YOU have the keys to the SUV, I have your _wallet_. And you are NOT getting any money out of me for dinner at the lodge! If we do that, we might as just be at home eating at the fucking diner!"

 

"But…"

 

"Don't interrupt me…..I'm speaking here," Justin retorted, as Brian quickly closed his mouth. "And not only will you NOT be eating any dinner, you will also NOT be getting any _dessert_ afterward…If you catch my drift." He glared at the other man, tapping his foot in annoyance as he left no room for any possibility of misunderstanding.

 

"You wouldn't…."

 

Justin smirked. " _TRY ME."_ After all, he was well aware of the most effective way to get his lover to do what he wanted. It worked with the chair for Vic's House, didn't it?

 

Brian stared at him. Surely he wouldn't. That would be…un-American. He suddenly envisioned a picture of Carolyn Ingalls telling her husband at the cabin, "None for you tonight, Charles. You forgot to milk the cow," just before she made him sleep in the barn for the night.

 

Well, two could play that game. "Okay," Brian huffed. "Fine! Go ahead and eat your fucking _Spam and Beans_! I hope you have _gas_ all night long!" He quickly spun around and tromped back angrily toward the SUV, not bothering to see if his partner was keeping up with him or not.

 

The ride back to the campsite was permeated by a pregnant, thick silence, both men stubbornly refusing to give in. As Justin stewed silently over just why his threat hadn't worked this time, Brian, meanwhile, mentally ticked off what types of snack foods he had squirreled away in the SUV to eat, since he apparently wasn't going to be getting any _substantial_ food for lunch OR dinner. He hadn't yet totally discounted going without _dessert_ , however; they would just SEE who could or couldn't do without desert tonight, he thought smugly.

 

He slowed the SUV to a halt near their campsite, almost disappointed to notice the tent was still standing. He supposed he could try and make a point of protest by sleeping in the SUV tonight, but he didn't have any of the blankets or an extra sleeping bag to use, since they had placed all of their bedding supplies in the tent. Besides, he wouldn't give Justin the satisfaction of making him sleep in the SUV. If Justin could abstain from one of his favorite leisure activities tonight, well, then, HE could, too.

 

Justin opened the passenger door, still seething. The _nerve_ of the man! How many times did he tell him they were going to be _camping?_ What part of that did he NOT understand? Camping meant cooking under the stars, smelling the aroma of freshly-grilled food, NOT driving to the nearest Cracker Barrel! He couldn't help it if the man let their only source of trout get away from them. Now Brian would just have to suffer the consequences. He could just watch him as he enjoyed his Spam and Beans. He was sure it had to taste better than it sounded…right?

 

Justin went around to the back of the SUV and took out their plastic tote bin of cooking supplies. He stared icily at Brian, who simply stood there and smiled mockingly as the blond struggled to carry the heavy container over to the camping stove, which was set up on a portable stand. Finally letting out a loud sigh of relief as he gratefully dropped the bin down on the ground nearby, he opened it and rooted around until he found the items he needed: three types of beans, an onion, chili sauce, brown sugar, pre-cooked bacon, and of course, the _pièce_ _de résistance:_ a can of Spam. As he took out the skillet and placed it on the stove, he noticed Brian watching him surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye; of course, as soon as he turned to catch him, the man quickly looked away. Justin smiled in amusement as he diverted his attention back to his recipe.

 

Brian sat down on a large boulder as he removed a green apple from the canvas tote bag of snack foods he had stashed behind the driver's seat and took a bite. _Thank God_ _I had thought to do that_ , he remarked to himself, as he secretly looked over with disgust at Justin busily engaged in preparing his _masterpiece_. How could the man stand to cook with that stuff, let alone actually _EAT_ it? He hoped the smell didn't linger afterward; the thought of sleeping next to his partner with the smell of Spam on his breath as he kissed him made his stomach crawl.

 

Oh, yeah, that's right, he thought somewhat dejectedly. He probably wouldn't have to worry about kissing the man tonight, anyway. Well…..we'll just SEE about that, Mr. Taylor, smiling to himself smugly. You like your _dessert_ just as much as I do.

 

After a few minutes, Brian heard Justin actually humming to himself as he busily stirred the repugnant concoction in the skillet. He couldn't quite make out what the man was humming, but he could have sworn it distinctly resembled the melody from _Bonanza_. As the ingredients continued to cook, the smell of the Spam and onions, especially, reached his nose and Brian had to get up from his perch and walk away; it was beginning to smell downright _nauseating._ Justin actually had the gall to turn around at him and giggle as Brian stomped off toward the nearby stream with his snack tote slung over his shoulder. Surveying the best possible vantage point, he finally sat down on the grassy, gently-sloping bank to look out at the lazily-traveling water before he reached in and took out a large bunch of grapes to munch on.

 

A few minutes later, he looked back at his partner as he watched him take a hard plastic picnic plate from his supply tote and scoop a generous portion of the steaming gruel onto it. He was somewhat chagrined to feel his body reacting quickly to the blond's perfect, full lips blowing on the food to cool it off. _Damn twat – you know just WHAT you're doing, don't you?_ , he thought, as he saw the blue eyes twinkling at him while he continued to blow on the food for what seemed like an awfully long time just to cool it off. What? Was the food at a thousand fucking degrees or something?

 

Justin finally spoke to him for the first time since they had gotten back. "Sure you don't want some?" he asked seductively as he held out the plate toward the other man, leaving absolutely no doubt in Brian's mind that he was NOT talking about food here.

 

Brian smiled back with false bravado. "No, thanks…..I'm cutting back," he retorted, as he heard the other man snort.

 

Justin smiled back in return, attempting to look more nonchalant than he felt. "Suit yourself," he responded congenially. "But you don't know what you're missing," he contended, as he sat down on the boulder Brian had previously used.

 

Brian groaned internally. _Oh, yes, I do…..at least I WILL soon enough, you twat. That is, if you don't give in before I do._ Brian raised his eyebrows, feigning disinterest. "Knock yourself out, Sunshine," he growled.

 

Justin smiled again prettily, as he took another big bite of the _gourmet meal_ with his fork and shoved it into his mouth. "Mmmm," he purred, rolling it around in his mouth as if it were the most delicious food he had ever tasted; Brian just merely gaped at him as if he were insane and shook his head in disgust.

 

The sun was beginning to set and the light was fading as Justin finished up washing his cooking skillet and dishes, slowly carting the heavy tote box back into the rear of the SUV for safekeeping and breaking the camping stove down into its carrying case before wiping his hands on his jeans. Brian had continued to sit near the stream bank, seemingly fascinated by the swirls and eddies of the meandering water and appearing nonplussed by their stalemate. Maybe it was time to up the ante a little, Justin thought.

 

Taking his shirt off and placing it inside the tent, he slowly sauntered toward Brian in bare feet and jeans with a towel clutched in his hand and a small pail filled with shampoo, soap and a loofah sponge.

 

Brian watched him slowly approaching with trepidation. "What are you doing?" he asked the other man suspiciously.

 

Justin huffed. "What do you _think_ I'm doing? This isn't the loft back home…..I've going to take a bath in the water and wash my hair. Unless you know of a spa somewhere nearby," he asked sarcastically.

 

"No, can't say that I do," Brian responded cautiously. _What was the man up to NOW?_ He watched, unable to look away, as his partner walked right up to him and faced him. As Justin ever-so-slowly reached down to unbutton the tight jeans he was wearing, Brian couldn't help the lust-filled look in his darkening eyes as he bit back a slight smirk that threatened to appear on his lips in amusement. _Little fucker_.

 

He continued to stare entranced as the blond pulled at the waistband of his jeans and slowly….so slowly…..pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them, now only clad in a snug pair of black briefs that contrasted dramatically with the pale, creamy, lightly-haired skin and fit him like a glove. A glove that was tightly molded against his luscious ass and his impressive cock that was beginning to stand at attention, just as Brian's was beginning to do so, also, to his consternation.

 

He couldn't help the involuntary, soft groan that quietly escaped his lips as Justin then reached and slowly…again ever so s-l-o-w-l-y, grasped the waistband of his briefs and pulled them tantalizingly down his slender legs until they pooled on the ground at Brian's feet. It was all Brian could do not to reach out and grab those legs instantly to pull the other man roughly toward him and suck him off right there and then. But he would not give Justin bragging rights. _Control…..I must learn control._ If it worked for Luke Skywalker, by god it would work for him. Wouldn't it?

 

Justin smirked at him smugly as he turned and bent over, _slowly again (_ was that the only speed the man knew?) to pick up his jeans and briefs, placing them near the water as he sauntered over with his pail and dipped a dainty, pale toe in to test the temperature. As he shivered against the rather cool water and waded in, his nipples abruptly hardened against the change, a reaction that was not lost on Brian, who could only continue to stare at him as if he were hopelessly hypnotized. He groaned again, a little louder this time in total frustration as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the image out of his head.

 

He shortly opened them in surprise, however, as he heard the other man beginning to sing to himself. What was he saying? He strained his ears to make out the soft voice as he watched the blond shampooing his hair as he sung, "I'm going to wash that man right out of my hair, I'm going to wash that man right out of my hair, I'm going to wash that man right out of my hair, and send him on his way…!"

 

Brian gaped, his mouth open, as Justin finished the last stanza with a flourish, raising his loofah into the air in triumph. He quickly bent backward into the water to wash off the shampoo before raising his head back up and grinning widely at Brian, who simply rolled his eyes and tried furiously to keep the smile from appearing on his lips. He was NOT giving in to this impertinent twat….

 

He kept repeating his Jedi prayer to himself as Justin proceeded to use the sponge to leisurely wash every conceivable nook and cranny of his body as Brian watched in painful agony. Finally, thankfully, a newly-clean Justin emerged from the water, his blonde, wet hair plastered tightly against his head and his body dripping with water; the rapidly-setting sun shone on each droplet like small beads of luminescent pearls on the lithe, pale body, as tiny rivulets of liquid trailed down his collarbone, between his pecs, and down to his cock where they dripped off the edge like a miniature little diving board (only it wasn't so _little_ ). Brian decided the man looked fucking sexy as Hell as his partner furiously shook his head from side to side to remove the excess water before he finally took his towel and sensuously, meticulously dried off the rest of his body right in front of Brian. _Must learn control, must learn control, must learn control, must learn control._ Finally, after several seconds of torture, Justin eventually put his briefs back on, taking an inordinate, outrageous amount of time to do so, before smiling knowingly at Brian and marching back toward the tent, wiggling his ass provocatively as the rest of his clothing, his towel, and the supply pail followed along with him.

 

"Humpff!" Brian snarled. _Damn tease_. He was NOT going to give in. He was Brian Kinney. He was strong, he was confident, he was…so fucked. Sighing, he slowly rose from his place on the grassy bank and strode back toward the tent. It was going to be a _long_ night.

 

As Brian pulled back the flap of the tent, he saw that Justin had lit the propane camping light and had placed it in the corner of their structure. It gave off just enough of a glow to create what a typical, sentimental twat such as his partner would most likely call _romantic_. Ugh. He saw with some trepidation that Justin had already removed his briefs and was presently snuggled under the lone, over-sized sleeping bag, curiously scrutinizing Brian under those damn soft-blue eyes and long lashes. As he deliberately turned his back away from the prying eyes of his lover, Brian abruptly decided that NO sleeping bag would be big enough for the two of them together. In fact, he was rapidly beginning to forget why he had thought withholding sex from his partner had been a good idea. What in the fuck was he _thinking_? Oh, yeah…..he was trying to prove he had more willpower, more control, than the other man. He only wished he _believed_ that.

 

Grimacing at the inevitable, he heard Justin innocently asking, " _COMING_ to bed, _Mr. Kinney?"_ He definitely thought, however, that he distinctly heard an overtone of arrogance in the other man's question, before he plastered on his _I can handle this_ face and turned to look at his partner.

 

"Why, _certainly_ , Mr. Taylor," he replied congenially, smiling predatorily at the other man somewhat like a cheetah would smile at a rabbit. He noticed to his satisfaction that the other man's smug look had abruptly been transformed into an uncertain, less confident one as Brian, now completely nude, slowly crept toward him catlike.

 

He raised his eyebrows in a silent question at Justin before he asked, "Well? Aren't you going to move over? This was your idea, remember? Now move that perky little ass over and _make room_. I wouldn't want to get your body stirred up or anything," he cautioned him.

 

Justin snorted. "I'll try my best to restrain myself," he retorted, as he scooted over underneath the sleeping bag's top flap and opened it up for the other man to crawl inside. Brian's breath hitched as he saw the other man's naked body nestled underneath, and cringed inside as he realized he was about to be forced to share very close quarters with it. _Control…I must learn control…..._ Right.

 

He sat down on the tent's interior next to the sleeping bag and slowly twisted his body around to lie down next to his partner; as he covered himself back up, he lay facing away from the other man as he heard soft, even breathing behind him. For several seconds, the two men lay there, silently, as Brian vowed to himself, _I can DO this, I am Brian Kinney – I am STRONG -_ just before he felt a soft, warm arm laboriously snaking itself around from behind and s-l-o-w-l-y, ever so slowly, reaching around to pull the brunet's body back against the smaller, slender one. As his longer body made full contact with the lithe, warm one, he sighed in pleasure and surrender. Who was he _kidding?_ Who else could persuade him to be sleeping in a fucking _sleeping bag_? His hand reached up to his chest to cup the other man's as their fingers linked together tenderly. "Twat," Brian murmured.

 

He heard Justin chuckle softly as he turned around with the intention to face the other man with the notion of engaging in some much-overdo fucking when he heard a sound and snorted. "Justin…..you ate all that Spam shit earlier and your stomach's still _growling?_

 

Justin looked at him, puzzled. "That _wasn't_ my stomach growling, Brian," Justin told him somewhat defensively.

 

"Come on, Sunshine," Brian chided him. "I _heard_ it. I TOLD you that you would have gas all night, didn't I?" he teased.

 

"Brian," Justin replied in annoyance. "I'm telling you it wasn't me."

 

"Right," Brian cynically answered. "Then if it wasn't your _stomach_ that was growling, then what _was_ it?"

 

As a thought suddenly occurred to both men, their eyes grew large with apprehension. "Justin….." Brian began, his voice breaking slightly. "You don't think…."

 

Another growl pierced the air, this time sounding louder and closer to their tent.

 

Brian never knew his partner was capable of jumping out of bed as fast as he did just then. Before he could utter the words "Winnie the Pooh," Justin had jerked up from the sleeping bag and was pulling Brian roughly up as well. "No TIME to think!" he cried. "Get the keys! Get the keys!" he frantically shouted, as he began to desperately look around for the keys to their SUV. "Where ARE they?" he demanded, as he heard another growl, this one even closer than the last one.

 

Brian's eyes widened in apprehension. "Over there!" he cried, standing up straight as he pointed to a small, folding table set up in the corner. Justin reached over and grabbed the keys as they both came to a brief stop at the front of the tent. Cautiously, they opened the flap and poked their heads outside. Thankfully, they could not see anything amiss. But neither man was willing to become bear food for their visitor.

 

"Come on!" Brian whispered urgently, as he made the executive decision to make a run for it. "Run!" he pressed Justin, as he firmly grabbed the other man's hand and pulled him out of the tent, taking off furiously in the direction of the SUV.

 

"The brochure said NOT to run!" Justin reminded the other man, as they both continued to race toward their vehicle.

 

" _FUCK_ the brochure!" Brian snarled as his lungs threatened to give out from under him as he continued to pull Justin along behind him. He frantically pressed the unlock button on the key fob three times before he saw the lights flash in response; sparing no time to look behind him for fear of what he might see, he roughly opened the driver's side door and shoved both of them inside, smacking his hand violently down on the lock button inside the interior.

 

"Do you think he's still _out_ there?" Justin asked him fearfully several minutes later, his chest still heaving as he struggled to regain his breath. His eyes were huge orbs of concern as he tried to peer out into the darkness to ascertain the whereabouts of their nighttime visitor.

 

Brian breathlessly responded, "I don't know, Sunshine. I'd guess he's looking for your Spam at the moment. Word must have gotten around."

 

"Very funny, Brian. Let's just hope he doesn't want it so badly that he tries to break into the SUV," he said anxiously.

 

"I don't know. You _did_ tell me how tasty it was," he advised the other man solemnly.

 

"Fuck off, Brian. This is _serious!_ These bears weigh a lot….they're powerful!"

 

Brian reached over and pulled the other man into a _bear hug_ of his own, squeezing his shoulders briefly. "Don't worry, Sunshine. _Papa Bear_ will protect you," he smirked.

 

Justin glanced at him dubiously. "Somehow that doesn't fill me with confidence," he admonished him.

 

"Hey," Brian answered back, insulted. "Just for that, I'll offer _YOU_ to old Smokey if he comes too close. I'm sure he'd much rather have some twinkie over Spam and Beans any day."

 

"Thanks," Justin answered, wriggling his nose wryly.

 

The two men sat snuggled together silently for a few minutes, listening intently for any more sounds to emerge from their uninvited guest. Fortunately, no more growls were detected, as their breathing finally slowed down to a more normal rhythm.

 

Justin glanced up at Brian, who continued to embrace him protectively. "Brian?" he asked the other man.

 

"What, Sunshine?" the other man answered softly, as his hands traced lazy circles around the other man's shoulders.

 

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll sleep here tonight."

 

"Wise thinking, Mr. Taylor," Brian assured him. "Fortunately, it's supposed to stay pretty warm overnight. But I think just for good measure, we'd better use our body heat to keep us from getting a chill."

 

Justin smiled as he looked up at his partner's face, his wishes clearly being broadcast. _So much for our mutual self-control_ , he thought. "Good idea, Mr. Kinney," he responded, as he reached his head up to kiss the readily-awaiting, parched-from-lack-of-fucking lips. It did not take long before they found themselves scrambling over the front seat to take advantage of the more spacious back seat.

 

As their bodies began their familiar, sweet ritual, both men were so caught up in their efforts to maintain _body heat_ that they failed to hear the soft chuckles from the nearby bushes.

 

"Oh, that was better than the leaking canoe!" Michael softly stated, as the others broke out into quiet laughter. "Where did you get the CD from?"

 

"Oh, they have all kinds of interesting things in the lodge gift shop," Emmett assured him, as he clapped his hands in glee. "That was TOO funny! What can we do tomorrow?" he asked, his eyes lighting up mischievously.

 


	7. Ride 'em, Cowboy!

"It's about _fucking time_ you GOT here!" Brian admonished the dark-haired man. "You were supposed to answer your damn cell phone! Or were you too busy sleeping on your feather bed and stuffing your face at the lodge's gourmet breakfast bar! Do you have any _idea_ what Justin tried to feed me last night?" He snarled with derision. "Beans with fucking _SPAM!_ "

 

"Calm _down,_ will you, or Justin will _hear_ us," Michael shushed him. He rolled his eyes at his friend; holy shit, the man was such a melodramatic drama queen. "You would think the man had offered to feed you manure or something – Geez!"

 

"Manure would have been _tastier!_ I thought I was going to _puke!_ I'm telling you – the man is trying to _KILL me,_ Mikey!" Brian rubbed his hands over his face as he paced back and forth in front of the other man, the words rushing out in a torrent. He tried to think back to when his partner had somehow persuaded him to come with him on this expedition; was he drugged out of his mind at the time? That had to be the only explanation why he had agreed to do this. "And that's not the _half_ of it!" Brian added incredulously, "After he tried to poison me, a _BEAR_ tried to wrestle me for _rights_ to it! Fuck, I would have _given_ the damn bear the Spam!"

 

Michael quickly turned his head away and clamped his hand over his mouth for fear he would break out into a loud guffaw. Even now, the image of Brian and Justin poking their heads out of their tent with looks of fright on their faces before running full speed toward their SUV was clearly etched in his mind. How lucky for them it had been a full moon last night – actually, there were _THREE_ full moons last night, he thought, snickering silently. Pasting a fake look of concern back on his face, he turned again to his friend who was still rambling on about his woes.

 

"I've spent two nights now with a fucking backache trying to sleep in the back of that damned SUV because of hail and bears, and two days practically being _starved to death!"_ Brian groused, as he continued to pace. Michael thought he heard the other man muttering something about "strangling a bubble butt Boy Scout" before his friend suddenly remembered the reason for their secret tryst. "Well?" Brian asked.

 

Michael shook his head in confusion. "Well, _what_?"

 

Brian frowned at him in consternation. "What do you mean, _well, what?_ I just got through telling you about being starved to death for two days – hand it over!" he demanded.

 

Michael shook his head; the man was pitiful. Leaning down to pick up a white paper bag, he held it out to Brian, who snatched it from him and took a deep whiff of the aromas. "Ah," he breathed in pleasure, "Food. Real, _normal_ , _edible_ FOOD." He closed his eyes in relief, relishing the smells emanating from the bag. He pulled out a plastic carryout dinner container and opened it, a wide smile breaking out on his face. Michael had brought him scrambled egg whites, fresh cantaloupe, two strips of turkey bacon, and a couple of thick, homemade slices of toasted wheat bread with fresh strawberry jam.

 

Holding up a strip of the bacon and taking a big bite, he smiled broadly and patted Michael on the back. "Mikey, I _LOVE_ you! You saved my ass!" He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he continued to munch on the strip of turkey.

 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm glad I could prevent you from wasting away," he declared. "But you'd better eat that shit quickly, before Justin wakes up," he cautioned his friend. Brian had sneaked away about an hour earlier to call his friend and demand he rescue his stomach from future torture. "Speaking of which, what are you going to tell him when he wonders why you're not eating _his_ breakfast?"

 

Brian took a stab at a large chunk of cantaloupe, chewing it around in his mouth thoroughly and sighing in pleasure before swallowing. "Are you _kidding_? Who _knows_ what he's going to try and force feed me for _breakfast!_ He didn't even let me EAT yesterday until dinner time, and that's when he tried to feed me that ground-up shit he called _Beans and Spam!_ I'll just tell him I ate another apple or something – he'll never know the difference," he stated, not even stopping to fully swallow as he spoke.

 

Michael shook his head in amusement. It was debatable which man would outlast the other one – the would-be Boy Scout or the cultured, out-of-his-element Drama Queen. "Well, I'd better get out of here before we're discovered," he decided, picking up the paper bag and holding it out for Brian to drop the remnants of his breakfast into. By now, the only part left was the carry-out container, a crumb or two of the bread, a plastic knife and fork, and two empty strawberry jam containers.

 

"Now don't forget, Mikey," Brian reminded him sternly. "You make sure you keep that damned cell phone on for lunch. After the Spam fiasco, there's no _telling_ what he'll try to spring on me next." Brian grimaced as visions of cans of potted meat and sardines in mustard sauce floated through his mind. Yuck.

 

"Good luck, then," Michael consoled him, smiling in amusement as the other man scowled at him for not displaying the proper amount of sympathy before he turned and walked back toward his car, which was hidden approximately a quarter of a mile away.

 

Michael had scarcely left before Brian started in surprise as he heard Justin calling his name. "Brian? Where _are_ you?" he heard his partner's plaintive voice from nearby. "Bri-an…." "Bri-an... _Answer me!"_ He eventually could hear sticks breaking and tree branches snapping as his partner continued to search for him.

 

Brian sighed; naturally, the man would be awake today at the crack of dawn; any other day he would have still been fast sleep and _cannons_ wouldn't have awakened him. He quickly huffed a breath into his palm and sniffed, realizing with horror that he could still smell the scent of tell-tale bacon on his breath; unless he could fool Justin into thinking he had somehow shot a wild turkey, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Quickly taking out a breath spray from his pocket, he had just enough time to inject a couple of short bursts into his mouth and shove the container into his pants before his partner appeared dressed in a pair of snug blue jeans and a short-sleeved, royal-blue tee-shirt; Brian thought he looked even more delicious than his prior breakfast feast as he quickly surveyed the snugly-clad body.

 

"Why didn't you answer me? Didn't you hear me calling you?" the blond asked suspiciously, hands on his hips in exasperation. Brian observed his partner looking around curiously as he quizzed him, "What are you doing out this far, anyway? I was afraid the bear had come back," he announced, staring at him fixedly for an explanation.

 

"Can't a man answer the call of nature in _private_?" Brian growled as he glared at him.

 

Justin stared at him in aggravation. He decided he was right; the bear _HAD_ come back – only he was thinner, had darker hair, and auburn eyes. He didn't see any toilet paper, and besides, the man had walked an awful far distance just to get a little privacy (who was he _kidding?_ Brian Kinney – bashful and needing _privacy?_ He smelled a rat, or at least a stinky fish, somewhere). His suspicions mounted as he pressed the other man, "What…our normal pissing tree wasn't good enough for you? What have you _REALLY_ been doing out here?" he demanded.

 

_Got to think fast, got to think fast._ Brian plastered on his most contrite expression as he explained apologetically, "Okay, Sunshine, you caught me. I was doing my early morning meditative yoga. I just finished with the Lotus position – it helps me to maintain my flexibility when we fuck," he stated innocently, as he mimicked one of his favorite, back and forth _copulating_ positions to his partner.

 

Justin didn't believe one word of it as he narrowed his eyes in mistrust. Brian merely continued to stare back at him blankly; Justin thought he looked just like a child who had almost had his hand caught red-handed in the cookie jar. Finally, Justin leaned into the other man and warned him softly, "I'm not quite sure what you're up to, Brian Kinney, but I intend to _find_ out." He stared at the hazel eyes pointedly for several seconds before taking the opportunity to kiss the amused mouth briefly. Brian held his breath as he pulled back from his partner slightly to make sure the jig wasn't up; satisfied that the Binaca had done the trick, he began to return the kiss enthusiastically, but quickly came up with only air as Justin pulled back suddenly with a smirk, leaving the other man off balance. "Shit!" Brian muttered, as he promptly fell down on his ass.

 

Justin laughed. "So much for your _flexibility_ , old man," he chided him. "Better do some more practicing," he instructed as he turned to walk back toward their tent. "I'll be at our _former_ favorite pissing tree with my Charmin if you need me." Brian glared at him as he rubbed his now bruised ass _AND_ ego. _Didn't I TELL you, Mikey? The man's trying to KILL me!_

 

As Brian approached their campsite, his worst fears were realized as he observed the portable cook stove out again and his partner hunched over it. As he got closer to the stove, he noticed what appeared to be a tuna can on top of one of the burners. What the fuck?

 

"Uh…Justin? Why do you have a can of tuna on top of the stove?" This was not looking much better than the canned Spam last night. And for _breakfast_? "What the fuck are you making _this_ time? Tuna pancakes?" His stomach threatened to heave the just-consumed contents of his lodge breakfast as he thought of the horrifying possibilities.

 

Justin snorted. "Sorry to disappoint you, _Rachel Ray_ , but I'm actually making Taylor McMuffins," he informed the other man smugly, as Brian watched him plunk a couple of heat and serve sausage links into the bottom of the empty tuna can.

 

" _Taylor McMuffins?"_ How many slices of twat do you use in _that_ recipe?" he taunted the other man.

 

"Ha, ha…." He shooed the other man away as he saw Brian continuing to approach him. "Don't come too close," he warned him. "I wouldn't want to offend your delicate stomach."

 

Brian let out a breath he had been holding; somehow he thought if he didn't breathe, maybe it would prevent him from _smelling_ , too; unfortunately, he wasn't successful. He thought he smelled the pungent aroma of some type of sausage mixed in with a little hint of tuna residue as he held up his hands in capitulation.

 

"Don't worry," he reassured him, shrinking back as he saw his partner crack the shell of an egg and plop it into the can. "I'll just be over at the SUV, getting my snack tote out," he informed, _and puking my guts out,_ he thought, his nose turning up in revulsion. He began to turn around, but nevertheless found himself standing transfixed as he watched in macabre fascination when the blond took a toasted English muffin and stacked a slice of non-refrigerated cheese onto it before taking the now-cooked egg and sausage mixture and smacking it down on top of the cheese. Justin smiled at him proudly and placed the other, buttered and jellied half of the muffin on top of its other half before taking a big bite and proclaiming, "Delicious! Mmmm."

 

Brian gaped at him and scrunched his face in disgust, his mouth hanging open, as Justin actually smacked his lips like he was eating caviar. _The man must have the iron stomach of a fucking robot_ , he decided, as Justin, having finished eating his culinary masterpiece, made a show of licking each finger leisurely to suck up each crumb of his _Taylor McMuffin_. If Brian hadn't found the idea of sausage, egg, and jelly all on one muffin so repugnant, he would have found himself turned on by the elaborate sucking demonstration. Justin, however, noticed the other man's discomfort and merely laughed at the horrified look on the brunet's face.

 

Rubbing his hands together and wiping them on his pants to discharge any remaining crumbs, the blond turned to his partner and asked, "So….now that we have _that_ out of the way, I think it's time for a little bareback riding."

 

Huh? Brian's ears instantly perked up and his eyes lit up. _NOW we're getting somewhere_. "Sunshine, that's the _best_ fucking idea you've had since we got here," he declared happily, as he began to take his shirt off in earnest and he started to unbutton his jeans. "There's nothing like a little fresh air to get those recreational juices flowing, huh?" he added, winking, as he began to eagerly take his pants off to join the shirt he had just thrown down onto the ground.

 

Justin frowned at him, puzzled. "What are you _doing?"_ he asked, seemingly mystified.

 

Brian stopped just as he was about to unzip his fly. He noticed that while he was almost undressed, Justin was inexplicably just standing there staring at him stupidly. _What part of get undressed did he NOT understand? He did say BARE back, didn't he?_ He looked at the younger man incredulously. "What do you _THINK_ I'm doing? You want to try it with your clothes ON? Kinky, but not too practical." He stood there, hands outstretched in confusion.

 

Justin's eyes twinkled in amusement as he bit back a laugh. "Oh, you think I meant…. _that_?" he asked innocently. "I'm _sorry_ , Mr. Kinney….I meant bareback riding on a _horse's_ ass…NOT mine." He giggled then as he noticed the flash of extreme annoyance and disappointment that suddenly appeared on the other man's handsome face as he stood there like a little boy who had just had his favorite toy take away. "But if you're _really good_ , maybe you'll get to try the other version… _later_." With that vague promise, he shook his _OWN_ ass alluringly before walking back to their tent to pick up his jacket.

 

Brian continued to glare at the other man's back as he walked away. _Damn little fucker_. _I hope he falls off the horse right onto his tight little bubble butt ass._ As he stood there, now rubbing his own sore ass from his previous fall, he debated what to do. He had no desire whatsoever to get on a horse, especially bareback, but at the same time he didn't want Justin to find out that he had never been on a horse in his entire life. Something told him the little twat probably knew how to ride a horse and was just waiting to show off while making Brian look foolish. _Well, we'll just SEE about that, Mr. Taylor_ , he thought, as he abruptly zipped his pants back up and roughly snatched his discharged shirt up from the ground and put it back on.

 

Seeing the other man's display of stubbornness, Justin laughed from his vantage point inside the tent. He assumed that Brian had never ridden a horse before, but he also knew Brian wouldn't dare NOT agree to go with him for fear he would be seen as weak. On the other hand, he was a little nervous himself, because truth be told, the only horse he had ever been on was the kind you rode after someone put a quarter into the slot. But the thought of trying something new was exciting, and the more _intimate version_ that might come later would be even _more_ exciting. His body kicked into overdrive and his heart starting beating rapidly in anticipation as he grabbed his jacket and strode out of the tent toward his partner, who was casually standing next to their SUV, looking more confident than he probably felt at the moment.

 

"Ready, Lone Ranger?" Justin asked, smacking him on the butt as Brian yelped; the little twat had found exactly the right spot that still smarted from his fall earlier. Justin smirked as Brian rubbed the tender flesh again. "Sure you're _UP_ to this, _Mr. Kinney_?" he asked the brunet, who stared at him with a glower on his face.

 

"Of course I am," Brian responded smugly with a smile as he opened the driver's side door to get in. "Maybe now I'll get to ride on a _real stallion_ for a change."

 

Justin smiled back condescendingly. "Well, we finally _agree_ on something – maybe that will make _two_ of us, then." He noticed the other man's eyes narrow as he plastered on a fake smile; while Brian would never in a million years admit to ever doing any _riding_ , both he and Justin knew that on a few occasions, in the intimacy of their loft, he had willingly participated in riding a particularly wild, absolutely wanton, golden _bucking BRONCO._

 

Justin observed the other man's face actually flush a slightly darker shade as he no doubt was thinking about just those occasions; whenever he DID allow Justin the _privilege_ of being the receiver, as he would most certainly see it, the brunet always wound up with a sore ass for a couple of days later.

 

Clearing his throat awkwardly to try and clear his mind as well, he glanced over at his partner, who had somehow commandeered a cheap, felt, cowboy hat and had it perched jauntily on his head; it reminded him of the hat Justin had borrowed from some admirer of his butt the night the blond had danced at the King of Babylon contest. _Where does the man come up with THESE? The tacky hat shop?_ It had the same, dorky drawstring secured under his chin, but this adornment was more of a charcoal color. As he noticed the other man staring at him, Justin smiled and tipped his hat at him, placing a slender hand briefly on the brim as he answered in a marked drawl, "Howdy, pardner. Ready to saddle up?"

 

Brian snorted, unable to suppress a laugh from escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes. "I think I actually preferred the nerdy fishing hat," he answered as Justin stuck his tongue out at him. "Besides, you said we were riding _bareback_. Keep that in mind….for _later_."

 

Now it was Justin's turn to blush as his partner started the SUV. _Something to look forward to_. His thoughts were interrupted by Brian. "So where are we headed, Maw?" he asked, as he neared the road to the park.

 

"Over yonder, Paw," he drawled, pointing toward the right. "Right down in that holler, 'bout two shakes of a lamb's tail."

 

Brian's pained expression revealed his confusion over this new language his partner was suddenly speaking. _Just how far WAS a lamb's tail_? _How does the man even pick UP this wild language?_ "I hope you're not planning on becoming fluent in this hillbilly dialect," he warned the blond.

 

"Don't worry, Brian," he was reassured, as Justin patted his arm soothingly. "We will always speak the same _fucking language_. It's the _universal_ language of love…."

 

Brian rolled his eyes and huffed. _How romantic_. He almost ran off the road as Justin startled him.

 

"STOP!" he shouted. "You'll miss our cutoff!" He pointed to a side road with a sign advertising _Mountain State Stables – For the Ride of Your Life!_

 

Brian snorted. _That's a matter of opinion_ … _I prefer my own little bronco, thank you._ He wasn't going to tell _HIM_ that, though…too much chance of giving the twat a big head to go with his big cock.

 

"Brian? Are you listening to me?"

 

The brunet started as he realized the other man was speaking to him as he was lost in thought. "Yes, Sunshine, I'm listening," he responded, as he quickly turned onto the gravel road heading toward the stable. As Justin peered excitedly ahead, his eyes shining, Brian steered the vehicle approximately a quarter mile down the road before they came to a large, log-hewn farmhouse nestled around a deep blanket of pine trees with a wide, covered front porch and a large parking area for guests. Next to the matching wooden stables located adjacent to the farmhouse was a large fenced in area, where several horses of various colors grazed serenely.

 

Brian looked apprehensively at the horses; the closer they drove toward the stable, the larger they loomed. _Those beasts are fucking HUGE_ , he thought, wondering once again if this was a good idea, personal barebacking notwithstanding.

 

As he veered the vehicle to a nearby parking spot, the SUV had barely come to a stop before Justin jumped out and bounded over to a brown and white stallion located near the fence line. "Aren't they _beautiful_?" Justin asked his partner, marveling at the horse's shiny, majestic coat and muscled physique.

 

Brian slowly walked over toward Justin and the horse, which was towering over them by at least a foot. As the beast's large eyes stared at him in suspicion unblinkingly, Brian whispered a little prayer: _Must be brave, must be brave….N-I-C-E horsey._ He stared aghast as Justin actually reached out his slender hand and rubbed it along the side of the horse's gigantic neck, cooing to it as he softly rubbed his hand up and down the silky mane. "You are so _gorgeous_ ," he marveled as he smiled one of his trademark smiles.

 

As the horse abruptly shook his head and whinnied, Brian jumped back in alarm; to his annoyance, Justin merely laughed in delight. "Brian, don't be such a pussy," he chided the other man, who snorted in denial.

 

"I am NOT, nor will I EVER be, a _pussy_ , Mr. Taylor," he corrected him. As Justin stared at him unconvinced, arms crossed over his chest, Brian clarified, "I'm just being _careful_ , that's all. No telling what type of spit he'll throw off when he shakes that head. And do you know what these animals _eat_? Hay. Hay that's been pissed on and other animals have shit on." As Justin wrinkled his nose in disgust, Brian continued to stand about 10 feet away…..strictly for hygienic purposes, of course.

 

"Want to feed him an apple?" Both men turned to see a young woman approaching them with a lumpy, canvas tote bag. She was willowy and appeared to be around Justin's age, with red hair and vibrant blue eyes. To a straight guy or a lesbian, the woman would have no doubt been quite attractive; as it was, Justin noticed her friendly demeanor and the smile on her face, but the flirtatious behavior she was exhibiting was unfortunately going to waste on him. "His name's _Spitfire_ , by the way," she added, smiling, as she reached in and retrieved a red apple to offer it to Justin.

 

"What'd I tell you?" Brian whispered to his partner, smirking. Justin willingly accepted the treat from the woman with a smile of his own. _Watch it, Sunshine…..this one's gunning for you._ Brian's intuition was confirmed when the woman smiled seductively at Justin and he noticed her hand lingering just a little too long to be polite as she handed the apple over to his partner. "I'm Jamie," she announced, as she looked Justin over from head to toe.

 

"Uh….Justin," the blond responded politely. "And this is Brian," he added, tilting his head toward the other man.

 

"His _partner_ ," Brian clarified, looking at her intently so there was no mistaking in his look OR his tone just what _type_ of partner he was referring to. The woman's crestfallen look proved that she understood him correctly as she nodded. "Well, nice meeting you," she indicated before turning around to leave. "I hope you enjoy your ride."

 

"Oh, I _will,_ " Brian called after her. Under his breath, however, he finished his statement. _"_ After I get my own little spitfire back in our tent," he whispered in Justin's ear, who flushed a bright pink at the husky tone of the brunet's voice. "Brian," he murmured in embarrassment. Brian simply smirked; after all these years, he still _had it_.

 

"Ready for your ride?" The two men turned to see a middle-aged, tanned man striding over in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots and a leather cowboy hat. His name tag listed him as the owner of the stable.

 

Justin nodded a little more enthusiastically than Brian did as the man led them over to the corrals. "We've got a number of great horses for you to choose from," he told them. "Have either of you ever ridden before?" he asked them.

 

Brian started to open his mouth to reply before he felt a warm breath on his face. "Don't even go there," Justin growled in the other man's ear softly. "He means…..have you ever ridden a _horse_ before _._ "

 

"Oh…why didn't he _say_ so?" Brian retorted back. "Uh, actually, the answer would be no then," Brian answered out loud for the other man to hear as Justin bit back a laugh. The stable owner peered back at him in puzzlement over the answer before he turned to Justin. "What about you, young man? Have you ever ridden before?"

 

Justin didn't dare look at Brian; he knew if he did the man would cause him to burst out in a fit of laughter over the double entendre. Brian, however, had no such compunction. "Are you kidding?" he answered promptly. "Justin's one of the best riders I've ever had, uh, I mean, _seen_ ," he changed his answer slightly as Justin jabbed him in the side of his ribs, evoking an _oomph_ from him.

 

"Well then…..glad to hear that," the man answered, a look of doubt appearing on his face. He knew form experience, though, that it was best not to question his customers. "So…..maybe if your more _experienced_ friend doesn't mind, we'll put both of you on two of the more gentle horses. That's the best way to get your feet wet, so to speak, if you haven't ridden before. The ones I will show you also have a very smooth gait and a broad back with low withers."

 

"That sounds good," Justin replied. "I don't mind going slower for my _older_ , _less experienced_ friend." Brian, clearly offended, flashed a glare at the blond, who simply smiled innocently.

 

"Well, I'll have one of my assistants get the horses ready for you. If you come with me to the gate, there's a mounting block located there. It will help you get on the horse. Once you're accustomed to sitting up on the horse, you'll have someone lead your horse by the reins around the paddock until you feel more comfortable sitting on the animal. Your posture is very important while you're riding. You have to _move_ with the horse." As he paused by the gate, he assured them, "Don't worry….we won't turn you loose until you feel confident you're ready to ride on your own."

 

"Oh, that might take a while," Justin warned him. "He's not ridden nearly as much as I have."

 

The owner stared at the brunet, who quickly smacked the other man on the back. He thought the older man had indicated he had never ridden at _all_ before. Shrugging in confusion, he decided to overlook the contradictory statements and just take it from the beginning. "Well…..let's just take it from the top, shall we?" he asked.

 

"Oh, that's good," Justin told him. "He likes to be on top."

 

"Yes….Well…Here you go," the man advised them, puzzled, continuing to wonder about this peculiar couple. _They surely aren't from around here_ , he decided. He breathed a sigh of relief as his two assistants walked over with the mounting block and the two horses he had chosen for them; he was more than ready to hand them over to someone _else_.

 

* * *

 

Brian smirked as he looked over at his partner; he had managed to master being led around the paddock on his horse in short order and was feeling downright cocky at the moment. Justin, on the other hand, was struggling to stay upright as his body swayed from side to side with each of the horse's steps. Brian's longer frame and lean legs seemed to be an asset to him as he adeptly moved with the horse, while Justin's shorter frame and slender body seemed to make him prone to slide off the horse with the shortest change in movement. Several times the assistant had to actually physically prop him up to keep him from falling over the side.

 

"Well, Sunshine, looks like your _experience_ at riding hasn't really helped you today, has it?" Brian taunted him as he sat up arrogantly on his horse, aptly named _Surefoot_. "You never had any problem staying on _before_ ," he pointed out sarcastically.

 

As the assistant once more pushed Justin back upright onto his horse, avoiding yet another fall to the ground, Justin retorted, "Well, maybe that's because the one I rode before was closer to the ground."

 

Brian smirked. "Well, _young man_ , looks like you'll have to do a lot more _practicing_ when we get back home."

 

Justin bit back a smile. "Maybe you're right. I'll have to find the right stallion to ride, though."

 

"There's only _one_ stallion you'll be riding back home," Brian reminded him sharply. He was getting more and more confident as he rode _Surefoot_ around the paddock, and was just about to tell the assistant he was ready to go solo. Turning to Justin to give him a confident thumb's up sign, he inadvertently clenched his thighs around the horse, who quickly took that action as a sign the man wanted to speed up.

 

"Brian!" Justin called to him in horror, as he noticed the horse immediately picking up his pace. The reins of the horse flew out of the startled assistant's hands as the horse lurched forward. Brian briefly clung to the horse's mane, trying to maintain his balance, before he lost his grip and promptly fell off, once again landing squarely on his ass.

 

Sliding off his own horse, Justin rushed over to his partner, who had flopped down flat on the ground as soon as his ass had hit the hard, grassy surface. "Brian!" he cried. "Are you all right?" Brian simply lay there, his eyes closed while his face reddened in embarrassment.

 

"Brian!" Justin cried out again, as he knelt down and shook the man urgently. "Say something!"

 

Finally, to Justin's great relief, the man's eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes to stare back at the concerned face of his partner. "Surefoot _my ass_ ," he muttered, as he slowly stood up with Justin's help and groaned. "Can you _break_ your ass? Because I think I've just suffered a fracture down there. Ooh," he cried, as he painfully stood up with Justin supporting him around the waist.

 

The owner came running over. "Are you all right?" he asked, worry etched on his face. "Come and sit down," he urged Brian, helping to lead him over to a bench.

 

"I think I'd rather _stand_ right now, thanks," Brian growled, as he hobbled over to the bench located just outside the corral. For once, he envied Justin's bubble butt for more than just its fuckability; if he had an ass more like his partner's he would have had more padding back there and his ass wouldn't be _killing_ him right now. Of course, if he hadn't let the _owner_ of such bubble butt talk him into going camping in the first place, his ass wouldn't currently be so fucking painful at _all_.

 

Justin glanced over at his partner sheepishly; he felt terrible that Brian was obviously in so much pain, but if the man hadn't been so arrogant about the whole barebacking thing in the first place, chances are he wouldn't have landed flat on his ass and currently be in the situation he was in. _Looks like that's the end to barebacking today…..here OR at the tent_ , he thought with disappointment.

 

"Do you want to see a doctor?" Justin asked him with concern. "The owner said there's one just down the road at the urgent care center."

 

"What would he do for a sore ass?" Brian retorted testily, his face contorted in discomfort. "Rub it and make it better? I'll pass, thanks." He leaned in closer to Justin so only the blond could hear him. "I'll let _YOU_ take care of that for me back at the tent," he whispered, as Justin once again flushed. "You OWE me, Sunshine."

 

"Are you sure there isn't anything else we can do?" the owner asked him solicitously, noticing with confusion the blond's apparent embarrassment. As Brian shook his head no, he slowly limped back toward their SUV with Justin continuing to support him.

 

"Can you drive?" Justin asked him, wincing when Brian groaned as he stepped on a rock; it seemed that every step he took caused his pain to throb.

 

"Do I have a fucking _choice?_ " he growled. "I'm sure not going to WALK back to the tent, and I'm SURE as hell not going to ride a _horse_ back there. I've had more than enough horseback riding, thank you very much."

 

"I could try and drive us back," Justin offered helpfully, although he doubted he could do it due to his height.

 

"No, thanks," Brian retorted nastily. "I don't think it's a good idea for someone to drive who can't see out from behind the steering wheel. I'd rather not drive off a cliff right now…..although at the moment, I almost feel like I have _already_." He hobbled over to the driver's side, and opening the door, held his breath as he prepared to slide in. As Justin opened the passenger door and got in, he glanced over worriedly when the brunet moaned loudly and gasped as he painfully took his place behind the steering wheel.

 

Brian managed to drive them the short distance back to their tent, the silence between the two men only interrupted occasionally by Brian's painful, hoarse breathing, the pain clearly etched on his handsome, pale face. Justin glanced over at him frequently, his own face reflecting his worry and guilt over placing his partner in this position.

 

As he finally pulled the vehicle to a stop, Brian took a raspy breath before turning the SUV's ignition off. He was steeling himself to exit the vehicle when he heard Justin's soft voice, full of regret. "Brian….I'm sorry for talking you into going camping with me. I should have known you wouldn't be comfortable with it. And now look…..you feel like shit and hurt like hell, and it's all my fault." His eyes filled with tears, because when Brian hurt, _HE_ hurt.

 

Brian was fuming all the way back from the horse stable; however, one look now at his partner's teary eyes and contrite expression of worry and the anger disappeared. Shit – he could never stay mad at this man. Never. Besides, it was hard to stay mad at a man who was wearing such a tacky, cheap, dollar-store cowboy hat.

 

He sighed in resignation as he let the anger flow from his body. "Help me out of here, Sunshine," he requested softly, as his breath caught once again when a fresh wave of pain hit him. Justin immediately unlatched his seat belt and rushed around the car to open the driver's side door and reached his arm down to grab the other man's bicep to help him up.

 

"Brian," Justin murmured sympathetically as the brunet groaned again in pain. They stood there side by side until Brian's pain had subsided a little and he turned to face the younger man, who continued to stare up at him with remorse. Brian shook his head, as if he were reassuring the other man that he was not blaming him, before the faintest hint of a smile appeared on his lips despite the pain.

 

"What I _do_ for you, Maw," he whispered through the throbbing. "You realize, don't you, that you will have to personally supervise the healing process for my ass? I'm going to need lots of tender, loving care for at least the next six months after this."

 

Justin sighed in relief, although he still felt guilty for talking Brian into coming out here into the _boondocks_ ; the man was clearly out of his element and had only come here to please him. His heart swelled over the love this other man was showing him as he reached up and gently kissed the soft lips. "I promise I will take good care of you, Paw," he whispered softly as he nuzzled the brunet's cheek – the one on his _face_ , that is.

 

"Just promise me one thing, Sunshine."

 

"Anything."

 

"No more barebacking until we get back to the loft. I don't think my ass can take any more."

 


	8. "Orange" You Glad We Did This?

Brian's hopes of a marathon fucking session with his _little cowpoke_ went up in smoke after his ass took a major beating at the horse stable; so did his idea of meeting up with Michael for a substantial, decent meal – on the sly, of course. It wouldn't do for Justin to know he was fortifying the blond's camping meals with _normal_ food. Unfortunately, with the way he had to resort to hobbling around their tent site there was no way he could make it out to his and Mikey's secret rendezvous.

 

As he slowly shuffled out of the tent, he felt like he was in the _Groundhog Day_ movie; there was Justin, again hunched over the camping stove, and here was he, again holding his breath in a vain attempt to not smell whatever creative masterpiece Justin was attempting to cook _this_ time. Deciding that a blue face and a sore ass might be a lethal combination, he finally let loose the breath he was holding and dared to take a whiff of the air. Surprisingly, it actually had a _pleasant_ smell this time. No tuna aroma _OR_ Spam smells. _Just what WAS it?_ Braving another sniff of discernment in the direction of the camp stove, he decided he was either still in the sleeping bag dreaming or Justin had actually decided to cook some _edible_ food. "Humpff," Brian snorted under his breath. "I don't like the looks of this….Now _I_ smell a stinky fish."

 

Just then, the _stinky-fish_ cook turned and broadly smiled at him. Brian did a double take as he realized his partner must have visited the _Tacky Hat Club_ once again, because now he was wearing a tall, white paper chef's hat that looked remarkably like the one you might see Chef Boyardee wearing. "You're finally awake," his chef said. "How are you feeling?"

 

"There goes that 1500 SAT score again," Brian retorted sarcastically, as Justin stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you making this time, Aunt Jemima? Mud pies? At least that should be plentiful around here." He slowly crept over to his partner, keeping care to stay far enough away in case he was again overcome by some unknown, disgusting food fumes.

 

"I first thought of maybe making some type of donut hole to commemorate your unfortunate injury yesterday," he teased, earning a glaring, fixed stare from the other man. "But I thought that it might be cruel to make you the butt of the joke," he snickered. "Come closer and see what I'm making…"

 

"Said the spider to the fly," Brian finished for him, growling, still not convinced his stomach was safe. He normally had a virtual iron stomach, but NOT lately when it came to his partner's campfire _experiments_.

 

"It's okay….. _really_ ," Justin beseeched him, waggling a finger seductively for him to approach. Brian continued to look at him warily, his eyes narrowing. Maybe Justin was using some sort of pleasant-smelling smokescreen deodorant spray to mask some sardine sausage or something; he wouldn't put it past the man.

 

Justin placed his hands on his hips impatiently. "Oh, _come on!_ " he cried. "Don't be such a baby!" he lectured.

 

"I am NOT a fucking _baby_!" he insisted, pouting, now highly insulted as he glared back at him.

 

Justin smirked. "Then _prove_ it, Mr. Kinney…..Approach the altar…of the Taylor temple of food pleasures," he instructed solemnly, sweeping his hands out in invitation.

 

Brian rolled his eyes and grimaced. _God help me here_. Praying that his stomach would endure, he hesitantly moved forward until he was within a few feet of his partner's latest culinary creation. He was utterly astonished – and greatly relieved – to see that Justin had actually prepared a camp stove version of some type of pancakes on the stove with his handy, dandy skillet; they were presently turning a pleasant tone of golden brown and looked like they were about ready to be served. And his _stomach_ was verifying that it was definitely time to eat.

 

"Why, Mr. Taylor…..I didn't know you had it _in_ you," he marveled as he smiled in appreciation at the wonderful smell permeating the air over the food. Suddenly his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Hold it – just what kind of pancakes _are_ these?" he asked dubiously. "You didn't find a recipe for trout pancakes or some such shit like that, did you?"

 

Justin looked terribly affronted as he huffed, "No, _Mr. Kinney_ …I was all out of _trout_. These are banana pancakes," he announced smugly. "But….if you think these will insult your _olfactory sensibilities_ , I guess I can just force myself to eat them all." He started to remove all of the bubbly, thick discs from the pan and into a single plastic plate before Brian firmly grasped one long hand around the other man's waist and cuffed the other one around Justin's more slender, pale wrist. "Eat all of those and you die," he warned ominously in the blond's ear, his warm breath caressing the man's cheek. _I've got him_ , Brian thought triumphantly, as he felt the other man shiver in pleasure. _The Kinney charm strikes again._

 

"Yeah, but I'll die a _happy_ man," Justin countered surprisingly, struggling to pull his body away from the taller man's strong clutches. He began to giggle, though, as Brian tried a different tactic and started tickling his side just where he knew Justin was most vulnerable.

 

"Not fair!" Justin argued, in between fits of laughter as he did a little jig trying to unsuccessfully escape the other man's relentless torment. Brian's lip curled under as he grinned evilly. "All's fair in love and flapjacks, Sunshine," he declared, laughing, too, as he found the other man's giggles infectious.

 

"Okay, okay!" Justin finally cried in surrender after a few minutes, turning to face his partner as he picked up one of the pancakes with his hand and held it out teasingly in front of Brian's lips for a taste. The brunet slowly leaned in and took a tentative bite; even now, he wouldn't have put it past his partner to have slipped in a little rat poison or something just for fun. He was pleasantly surprised, however, to find out they were actually good. _Quite_ good, in fact. Smiling in surprise, he licked his lips and uttered a single "Mmmm," in appreciation before he took another bite of the pancake – this time with a little added Justin thrown in, as he reached over to tug the other man closer with his hand around the blond's neck. After pulling back from their kiss, he declared, "Delicious," before he waggled his eyebrows teasingly at his partner and graciously accepted the other man's offer of an additional plateful of his latest breakfast creation.

 

"Why, Mr. Taylor, that was by far the best fucking camp fire breakfast we have consumed since we got here," he advised the other man. "I didn't know you had it in you," he decided. "What came over you - did you run out of rice cakes and Cheese Whiz?"

 

"Keep it up, _Mr. Kinney_ , and I'll drag out the _Tofu_ for lunch," he warned the other man, as Brian held up his hands in capitulation. Now THAT was what the man called a terrible threat; just the thought of _anything_ made with tofu made Brian's stomach churn, and he dearly wanted to keep his pancakes down for a change.

 

"Never mind, Sunshine. I'll never doubt your master chef capabilities ever again," he vowed. "As long as you stick to food that didn't wiggle, crawl, or wind up compressed into a tin can."

 

Justin laughed as he picked up the now empty dishes to place them into a nearby pan of water. "I'll see what I can," he promised, smiling.

 

As he returned to sit next to Brian, who had been relegated to sitting on an inflatable water raft to keep his tender ass from being in agonizing pain from sitting on his favorite boulder, Justin informed him brightly, "Do you want to know what I have in mind for today's adventure?"

 

Brian groaned inwardly. _Oh, no….I shudder to even GO there._ "Oh, I don't know, Sunshine…maybe 'coon hunting or log spinning with the lumberjacks?"

 

"Sorry, Brian, but I left my shotgun at home and the beavers have taken a short holiday of their own, so we're fresh out of downed trees to roll on…No, actually I was thinking of taking pity on you today."

 

Brian stared over at him dubiously. " _Pity_ on me?" he eyed the other man closely. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that. Does that mean we're going spear fishing instead of 'coon hunting? I think in your case, Sunshine, you'd catch more fish with nerdy-cap fishing."

 

"Ha, ha," Justin sing-songed. "Remember what I told you about the tofu," he warned, as Brian hurriedly wiped an imaginary zip across his lips fervently. "No, Mr. Kinney…..I think you've tried hard to be a good boy this week, considering how you've been like a fish out of water," he declared, giggling at the apt metaphor as the other man glared.

 

"You don't know how _HARD_ I've tried," he growled. Right now, as he looked at his partner wearing a tight-fitting navy-blue tee shirt and a pair of jean shorts that curved over every delicious angle of his body, he decided he was so fucking horny he was harder than a….what was it that Emmett always used to say? Oh, yeah….harder than his Aunt Lula's fruitcake. _Oh, God….I'm turning into a hillbilly now._

"Brian? Are you listening to me?"

 

"Huh?" Brian grunted; shortly that was followed by an irritated "Ow!" as Justin threw a potholder at him. "What?" he cried out in annoyance.

 

"I was trying to tell you your reward for being trying to be such a good little Boy Scout," Justin retorted. He scrunched up his nose in thought. "Now where did I put that tofu?" he threatened menacingly.

 

"Okay, okay," Brian protested, turning to face him now. "I'm _listening_ , Maw. I almost hate to ask, but what hamster wheel is turning around in that cute little blonde head of yours?"

 

Justin grimaced at the cutesy endearment. "Actually, last week before we came here to go camping, I called and made reservations for us to go into town today and get pampered at one of the spas."

 

Brian's ears must be deceiving him; did Justin actually say the word " _pamper?_ " "Uh….surely I didn't just hear you right," he asked, unable to believe what he thought he had heard uttered from the lips he knew – and savored – so well. "Did you actually use _pamper_ and _camping_ in the _same_ sentence?" He frowned, suspicious. "Just what does _pamper_ mean in West Virginia talk? Does that mean we're going into town to stock up on more Charmin so your tender little bottom doesn't have to use corncobs the rest of the week?"

 

"Brian, Brian, Brian," Justin clucked reproachfully. "Ye of little faith. For _YOUR_ information, Mr. Kinney, you and I are scheduled at 10:00 this morning for a couples massage, private whirlpool bath, chocolate facial scrub, and shampoo and cut. And the best part?" He smiled secretly as he divulged, "I swear – the name of the place is _The Bath House Day Spa and Gift Shop."_ Justin laughed at Brian's look of skepticism. "Believe it or not – that's the name of it." He quickly arose from his temporary beach raft perch and smacked Brian on the head lightly. "Now up and at 'em, _Paw_ …..unless you'd rather we just stay here and I _kiss_ your ass to try and make it better instead. Heaven knows I've done _that_ enough times over the years," he giggled, as he practically skipped toward the tent to pick up his small tote bag.

 

Glaring at his partner, Brian painfully stood up and hobbled toward the tent to join him, fervently hoping that Justin wasn't concocting some other scheme to make him hurt in so _other_ part of his body.

 

* * *

 

_The Bath House Day Spa and Gift Spa – Berkley Springs_

 

"Ah," Brian sighed in contentment, as he lay there facing his partner on the thick massage table. He and Justin had just gotten finished with their couples massage after a long soak in the hot whirlpool tub and he was feeling _wonderful_. The male masseuse who had worked on him didn't even bat an eye when he and Justin announced themselves as his next "couple" – he had plastered his most professional game face on and proceeded to give Brian an amazingly relaxing rubdown, even though he noticed Justin glaring possessively at the man as he seemed to linger just a little too long on certain parts of Brian's anatomy. Brian had merely closed his eyes in ecstasy as he luxuriated in the attention as well as the enormously satisfying massage that left his body, even his injured ass, feeling like a million bucks.

 

"I've got to hand it to you, Sunshine," Brian said, as the two of them were momentarily left alone in the dimly-lit room. "I feel so much fucking better after this. This is _MY_ kind of camping," he declared as he sighed in contentment.

 

"Well...Mister _Fuck Me, I'm Yours_ seems to think so, too," Justin snapped just a shade too angrily, as Brian just grinned at the other man's obvious jealousy.

 

"What's so _damned_ funny?" the blond asked him, indignant, as Brian let out a chuckle.

 

"Poor _Maw_ ," Brian answered patronizingly. "Since she's had all those young'ns, it's gotten so hard to keep her girlish figure. Looks like _Paw_ may have to go elsewhere to get his earthly pleasures."

 

"You go somewhere else, _PAW,_ " Justin threatened, "And Maw will have to resort to shoot'n off someone's lone remaining _ball_."

 

"Ouch!" Brian cried in mock pain. "That's what's known as the hillbilly method of castration," he pronounced in a decidedly southern drawl, evoking a chuckle from the other bed.

 

As the object of Justin's jealous irritation returned – some big bruiser with the inexplicable nickname of _Tiny_ (Justin thought – you're not fooling me, _Tiny_ – I'll bet it's not your _feet_ that are tiny), the burly man announced, "Gentlemen – it's time for your facial scrub, hair cut and shampoo. "If you'll don your robes and follow me," he instructed them, standing expectantly just inside the doorway to wait for them.

 

Brian began to get off the table just before he noticed his partner staring daggers of death at him if he revealed any more of his _anatomy_ to the other man. As he sheepishly lay back down on his stomach, Justin curtly informed _Tiny_ that they would be right there, making no mistake in his voice that he meant AFTER Tiny had left them alone. Brian turned his head away from his partner to stifle a laugh threatening to erupt from his mouth as he heard Justin finally rising from the massage table and joining him.

 

"Why, Sunshine, I think you hurt Tiny's feelings," Brian admonished him, as the two men donned their thick, white terry cotton robes and he cinched the blond's sash for him before placing a quick peck on the pale forehead.

 

"That's not the _only_ thing I'm going to hurt if he doesn't stop leering at you," Justin growled, as he turned and stomped out of the room, Brian following him close behind with a big smile on his face. _What, Sunshine? Are you going to kick his knee with your widdle foot?_

 

An hour later, the two men sat in side-by-side pillow-top recliners; their feet propped up, a chocolate facial wrap smeared on their faces. Justin distinctly thought he actually heard soft snores coming from the adjacent chair where his partner was resting, but he couldn't be sure with the cucumber slices presently covering his eyes. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed; the facial technician, as she called herself, had informed them the wrap should stay on for 30 minutes for the full effect to be enjoyed. Unfortunately, it was nearing lunch time and all Justin could think about while he sat there was how much he would enjoy a Hershey bar right about now; the cucumber slices didn't quite engender the same wish for a big, healthy salad for some reason, however.

 

"Gentlemen," Justin heard one of the facial specialists approaching them. "It's time to wash off your chocolate scrub. Then we'll head down to the hair salon for your cut and trim."

 

As the scrub was removed, Brian declared both of their faces felt "smooth as a baby's bottom," as he slowly rubbed his hands all over Justin's face and leaned in to get a sniff of some residual chocolate; Justin simply smirked at the man's announcement as he scrunched up his nose over Brian's ticklish exploration of his newly-scrubbed face.

 

After their facial, two hair stylists worked concurrently to wash and trim their hair. The owner of the salon part had talked Brian into trying some newfangled, organic (and outrageously expensive) shampoo they said was exclusive to their shop. Brian, being the, let's face it, _vain_ person that he was when it came to his looks, jumped at the chance to try this concoction that the owner had insisted would make his hair softer, fuller, and more vibrant. Justin, meanwhile, was content just to use the salon's standard shampoo; he figured as long as it got his hair clean, he was happy.

 

As the female hair stylist massaged his hair and shampooed it over the bowl, Justin found himself almost dozing off while the warm water ran soothingly over his scalp; it had been several days since he had had _any_ part of his body in warm water – the temperature in the lake where he had been forced to bathe had not exactly been tropical so far. In fact, now that he thought of it, he hadn't noticed Brian _using_ the lake to bath in, but there was no way the man would ever go so much as a single day without a shower and shampoo; the man must have had a previous life as a duck, judging from the amount of time he always liked to spend in their shower at the loft. Just _when –_ and _where_ – was his partner engaging in that particular activity? He made a mental note to find out just that as he heard Brian's stylist asking the other hairdresser to follow her over to the side of the room for something.

 

As Justin finally opened his eyes in curiosity, he peered over at Brian, who was now awake and scowling in his chair after his shampoo was finished; he was wearing a towel wrapped around his head. _That's odd_ , Justin thought. Normally after they briefly dry your hair, they normally take the towel _away_ from your head to prepare for the haircut. He turned around to see where the two stylists had gone, and noticed them speaking in whispers about 10 feet away and actually giggling about something that apparently had to do with Brian, because Justin's stylist was pointing at Brian's chair and smiling. _What the fuck? Were they trying to flirt with him? Because if they were, they were wasting their time_. Justin fumed – wasn't Tiny bad enough?

 

He continued to watch, his head still leaning back over the bowl, as his stylist finally returned and instructed him to sit up as she somewhat vigorously rubbed his hair to partially dry it. "If you'll please come with me," she asked, as Justin noticed that she took _his_ towel away and left him with an unadorned head unlike Brian. The two men exchanged the same type of _what's up with this_ look as Justin followed her out of the shampoo room toward her stylist's chair.

 

Just as she had picked up her scissors and was about to begin trimming the errant blond mop of hair, Justin heard a loud stream of profanity coming from his partner still back at the shampoo bowl.

 

"Now, if you will just calm down, Mr. Kinney," he heard the stylist say to the brunet patronizingly, "I'm sure we can get this situation taken care of."

 

Justin frowned; what in the world was going on _now?_ He heard Brian yelling at her now; fortunately at the moment they were the only two clients in the salon. " _Taken CARE of? You'd fucking better make sure you take CARE of THIS! I can't go OUT looking like this! I look like a huge fucking carrot! What the hell did you put on me?"_

 

As Brian stomped out of the shampoo room, his partner had to clamp a hand over his mouth as he finally got a look at the new, _untoweled_ Brian. Brian looked the same as he always did – in fact his face seemed to almost glow where he had been treated to the chocolate facial – except for his auburn hair. Or perhaps more accurately, _formerly_ auburn hair. Because Brian's hair was now a bright _orange_ color. VERY bright orange. As in a newly-picked fresh pumpkin or Emmett's favorite shimmery, dancing tee.

 

"Oh, my God!" Justin exclaimed, unable to remain quiet as he continued to stare in stunned amazement at the almost iridescent color of Brian's hair. "Brian…It's, it's so….." Justin wasn't quite sure _what_ he was going to say, because for one of the few times in his life, he was pretty much speechless.

 

Brian angrily pointed a finger at him. " _Don't_ say a fucking word, Justin! This is all YOUR fault!" he snarled, as he desperately stalked around the salon for a hat, a wig, _anything_ to cover up the disaster that used to be his beautiful brown hair; the hair stylists continued to stare at him, open-mouthed, their expressions metamorphosing from guilty acknowledgement to amusement as the normally confident, self-assured man frantically continued to search for something to cover up his head.

 

"MY fault?" Justin retorted back. "How is it MY fault that your hair now has the same color as a _circus peanut_?" He pursed his lips together firmly to unsuccessfully try to prevent a guffaw from escaping; unfortunately, a soft ripple of laughter still managed to spill from his lips to the older man's utter annoyance.

 

"Sir!" the blond-haired, slim stylist beseeched him, as he now started picking up magazines, ripping out the pages, and throwing them on the floor like a child in the midst of a temper tantrum. "It can be fixed!" she cried; she considered briefly approaching him to place a soothing hand on his arm, but one look at his clearly angry, disgusted face and she suddenly thought better of it. After all, magazines renew monthly – they could be replaced.

 

Brian finally smacked his hands against his thighs in frustration; he had thrown ever magazine within a 10-foot radius and had run out of them. He started to walk toward the product display shelves as Justin stared from his chair, eyebrows raised and eyes wide-eyed both with amusement and wonder over what would happen next. Visions of hair gel tubes, blow dryers and shampoo bottles being hurtled through the air came unbidden to his mind as Brian fortunately thought better of it at the last moment and pivoted on his heels to face the now cowering young stylist. He stalked up to her, his body towering over her much smaller, petite one as he waggled a pointing finger in her face. "You will fucking change my hair back to its natural color or I will twist your blow dryer cord around your fucking neck! Do I make myself clear, _missy_?"

 

"Brian!" Justin admonished him. "Take it _easy_ …..she said she could _fix_ it. Give her a chance." He gave him a fixed, _behave yourself_ look for several seconds as Brian continued to glare back at the stylist until he finally saw the telltale change in his partner's stance when he finally took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders slightly. He placed his hands on his hips and told her, more calmly now but with a sinister smile on his face, "I will give you _fifteen_ minutes. _Fifteen_ minutes to change my hair back to my _normal_ color. Do we understand each other?" he asked, leaning in toward her for emphasis, his eyes flashing.

 

Justin rolled his eyes; _what a drama queen_. He actually looked quite attractive at the moment – at least he would to _another_ carrot. He almost let loose yet another laugh until he saw Brian quickly glance over him suspiciously; he managed to quash his glee just in time to plaster on a more serious face to avoid getting reprimanded later.

 

"But, sir," the stylist was saying, as she subtly walked around her chair to place some protective distance between her and the ranting man; he knew he wasn't going to like what she had to say next. "Uh….You don't understand. Apparently somehow a coloring dye was placed by mistake into the reusable shampoo bottle. It _will_ come out," she assured him. "After a few days."

 

Justin snorted, quickly covering his mouth to prevent any more damaging utterances from escaping. But Brian still heard him; if looks could kill, he would be declared terminal right now. "What do you mean… _after a few days?"_

 

_Uh, Oh. This isn't good_. Justin continued to watch the two converse back and forth, turning his head to observe the bantering between them as if he were watching a tennis match. Only he already knew who the winner was going to be; Kinney – 40, Love. Game, set and match. _Poor woman_.

 

"Listen to me, _Edwina Scissorhands_ ," Brian declared, eyes full of fury and resolve. "You will take me back to the shampoo room and wash this fucking shit out of my head right now. I don't care _HOW_ many times you have to wash my hair! When I leave here, it will be _auburn brown…..NOT popsicle orange, NOT construction cone orange…..AUBURN BROWN!_ Is that clear?" He placed his hands, now white with rage, on the back of her chair and stared at her pointedly, brows narrowed in extreme consternation and barely controlled anger.

 

She nodded her head vigorously just like one of those toy dogs you see in the back of a car. "Yes, yes, I understand," she indicated, backing away just a little bit from her chair until her back hit the mirrored counter behind her. "If you will come with me…." And with a great deal of trepidation, she turned quickly and walked back toward the shampoo room, as Justin's stylist stood there next to the blond's chair, eyes huge with relief that _she_ wasn't the one who had made the mistake. She gave Justin a small, awkward smile before she finally picked up her scissors and began to trim his own hair.

 

* * *

 

Justin found himself tapping his fingers restlessly on the chair arm as he sat out in the lobby, impatiently waiting for his partner to emerge from the back room of the salon. Once Justin was finally reassured that Brian wouldn't strangle anyone or throw any more objects, he had escaped to the lobby area to wait for the (hopefully) brunet's emergence. At least he hadn't heard any more outbursts spewing from the back – that was a good sign. But they hadn't had a chance to eat lunch yet, and what was to be a half-day experience had instead turned into an all-day ordeal. He was absolutely _starved -_ even the discarded cucumber slices from their earlier facials in the trash were starting to look appetizing.

 

He heard his stomach emit a loud growl as he looked up at Brian finally coming out from the back. Justin held his breath as he waited for the older man to emerge clearly from the shadows so he could take a look at his hair. He sighed a silent breath of relief as he noticed Brian's hair; while he had some peculiar rusty-colored tints to it in spots, it was for the most part back to normal. And the owner was so mortified at what had happened, it had given them the entire services they received today for free.

 

Brian's scowl, however, indicated the man was still not happy. "Those fucking vultures!" he snarled as he pounced up to Justin. "They about scrubbed my fucking scalp _raw!_ And now my whole head itches like hell!" He stood above Justin, who peered up at him curiously, apparently trying to take a closer look at the finished product. "Well, what are _YOU_ staring at, _Blondie_?" he retorted sarcastically, taking special care to enunciate the last word.

 

Justin stood up and sighed. "Nothing…..Nothing at all," he assured his lover. "Howdy-Doody," he added quietly to himself under his breath, curling his lips to keep from giggling.

 

"What was _that_ you said?" Brian snapped accusingly as he looked over at him with suspicion.

" _Nothing,_ Brian!" he responded. _Geez_ – apparently his _HEARING_ wasn't affected by that dye, he thought. "Can we go _now?_ " Justin pleaded with him like a child kept too long in a vacation car. "I am _STARVING."_

 

Brian sighed now in exasperation; this had been the most fuckingly longest day he had had in a LONG time. "Don't tell me – you want to go back to the tent and whip us up a _pine cone casserole_." Brian was starving now, too – but he just didn't have the heart – or the stomach – for one of Justin's latest culinary camping masterpieces at the moment. How much more torture could a man be expected to _take_?

 

Surprisingly, though, Justin had decided that starvation outweighed his need for authenticity. "No, Mr. Kinney….actually, I think I'd like to give my cooking skillet a little reprieve tonight. Why don't we _break_ the rules this one time and eat a _normal_ meal?"

 

Brian finally smiled at the sound of that. "You mean…..in an _eating establishment?_ " He gasped at the thought. "As in a _restaurant_?" He said the name like he had forgotten what the word meant; hell, he _almost had_.

 

Justin patted his arm soothingly. "Yes," he thankfully confirmed. "A real, honest-to-goodness _restaurant_ with _normal food_ ," he assured him, smiling. _My poor baby – so much out of his element._

 

"Now you're talking, Sunshine," Brian eagerly agreed; Justin noticed now that he had agreed to something pleasant, his pet name had suddenly reappeared. "Anything particular in mind?" he asked him.

 

Justin shook his head. "I think since you've been _so_ mistreated this week, I'll leave that up to _you_. And maybe – just _maybe_ if you're a good boy – you'll get some _dessert_ later back at the tent."

 

Brian eyes lit up at _that_ thought. "But my ass just _stopped_ being sore," he pointed out. "Are you trying to get it sore _again_ , Mr. Taylor?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up in mock horror.

 

"You bet your _buns_ , Carrot-Top," Justin answered, receiving a sharp look of rebuke from his partner and a smack on the back of the neck. "Ow!" he retorted. "Keep that up and _no dessert_ – hot-crossed buns or _otherwise_ – for YOU."

 

"Right," Brian responded. "As if…" he laughed, as the two strode down the street's sidewalk, arm in arm. They were so intent on locating the first available, decent restaurant they didn't notice the couple of men staring at them as they peeked carefully around a nearby shop corner.

 

* * *

 

"Well?" Michael asked.

 

"It pretty much looks like his _normal_ hair color," Emmett reported, disappointment evident in his voice. "I was hoping for more of a _flaming red_ color myself. After all, the bottle did say " _Vibrant Fire_ ," he pouted.

 

"Yeah, me, too," Michael replied, nodding sadly. "I should have known he would made the hair stylist wash his hair over and over again until they got all the color out. But it _did_ look a little rustier than normal," he told his friend encouragingly.

 

Emmett sighed. "Yeah, I guess…..I wish they hadn't had the windows tinted in the salon...That let all of the _fun_ out of it," he lamented. Well, that was pretty much a bust," he decided. Suddenly his face brightened, however, as he asked, "What can we do _next_?"


	9. The Only Game in Town

_Town of Berkley Springs, VA_

 

"Well, Maw, I have to give you credit. Those were some mighty _tasty_ vittles!" Brian stretched his arms, smiling in contentment as the two of them slowly strolled down the sidewalk after exiting one of the local restaurants. Although the _Wood Fire Buffet and Grill_ was mainly what you would refer to as a "hole in the wall" establishment, they had just experienced an actual, _normal_ , _identifiable_ MEAL. Not Spam, not tofu, not fresh-caught, still wiggling trout, not even Taylor McMuffins. It was honest-to-goodness, REAL _food_. The buffet's rather strange combination of fried, country cooking as well as Chinese items had wound up being the perfect place to eat; it satisfied both Justin's insatiable appetite (when it came to _food_ , anyway) as well as Brian's need for healthier, lower-carb choices.

 

Justin threaded his arm through Brian's as he leaned into the other man's side and nudged him fondly. He was relieved to see Brian smiling now; it was a stark contrast to the scowl he had displayed earlier in the day after that stylist had somehow turned his head into something resembling a large navel orange. Thank goodness his hair had finally reverted back to a more normal shade after several washings. If his partner had had to go thought the rest of their vacation with flaming orange hair, he would have been even _more_ impossible to live with. The poor man was having enough difficulty surviving a week of pioneer-style camping as it was, he thought, smirking to himself; until now, to Brian _roughing it_ had meant going one week without his favorite shampoo in stock.

 

"Where to now, Maw?" Brian asked his lover with a distinct southern drawl. "Seen any good rodeos lately? Or how about a good corn shuckin'?"

 

Justin rolled his eyes. _Oh, Brother._ _Someone's taking this country dialect just a little too far now._ He was almost afraid the man was treading down a path that he might not be able to return from; the southern slang words were coming out of Brian's mouth faster than a, what did that waitress say in the restaurant? Oh, yeah….she said she'd have our drinks out faster than a jack rabbit on a hot, greasy griddle, whatever the fuck THAT meant. "Can't say that I have, _Paw_ ," Justin answered him, his voice taking on a decided southern twang, also. "How about we just mosey on down the street and see what comes up?"

 

"Oh, I can already tell you what's _coming UP,_ " his partner huskily growled in his ear. Justin smiled knowingly as his body shivered in response to the soft, warm breath whispering in his ear with words only meant for him to hear. "Brian," he laughed softly. "You are SO… _predictable_."

 

Brian frowned as he suddenly stopped walking. Turning to his surprised partner with his hands on his hips, he retorted, " _Predictable?_ I don't think I LIKE the sound of that word, Mr. Taylor. You make me sound so….. _boring_." The brunet never thought he would see the day when that extremely mundane word would escape from his partner's lips. Didn't he teach this man _anything?_

 

Justin smirked, laughing. "Oh, come on now, _Mr. Kinney_! I can pretty much finish your sentences for you, you're SO predictable. I would _never_ say you were _boring,_ though," he reassured him soothingly.

 

Predictable or boring - to Brian they both meant the same thing. "I resemble….uh, _resent_ that, Mr. Taylor," Brian maintained coolly. "I'm one of the most interesting fucking men I know – emphasis…."

 

"On the fucking," Justin answered smoothly, finishing his sentence automatically as Brian simply glared back at him. "What'd I tell you?" the blond asked, smirking self-righteously, as he gently took Brian's arm and urged him to continue walking with him down the street. He wanted to take this rare opportunity with his partner to take a look at the various gift shops and art galleries scattered throughout the picturesque, quintessential small town. He had spied a few unique-looking local artisan galleries toward the end of town and was eager to check them out in particular.

 

"So you got lucky," Brian snapped, annoyed, as he nevertheless allowed Justin to continue their walking. "Anyone could have finished that sentence," he countered, not impressed. Just who did the man think he was dealing with? Theodore? _Now HE'S predictable….NOT ME._ "The day that _I_ become boring is the day that….."

 

"I don't fuck more than three guys in the same day," Justin supplied; from the startled, peeved look on Brian's face, he realized he had yet again hit the nail on the head. Justin stifled a cat-in-the-canary grin as he turned his face away from his partner; he had finally gotten Brian over his hair fiasco from earlier. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was get him annoyed again. He had to admit, though, that getting Brian's goat was a lot of fun, in a dangerous sort of way.

 

He heard the brunet huff, clearly insulted that Justin could find him so…. _normal_. What Brian didn't realize, though, was that Brian was _far_ from boring to him. It was just that by now they knew each other so well, there weren't too many surprises left. Well, if you don't count him buying a fucking mansion and proposing to him. Of course, it didn't take long for him to take it back…..so to speak.

 

"Are you _pouting_?" Justin looked over at him, incredulous. The man was actually sulking, his face drawn and set in stubbornness. Justin pursed his lips together to try and keep from smiling; in the couple of seconds it took for him to change his own expression from amusement to concern, however, he was caught in the act.

 

Brian stared at him in irritation. "You think this is _funny?"_ Brian asked him sharply, abruptly taking his arm away from the other man's. "Humpff," was the grumble that came out of his lips as he actually turned his face away from his partner's, who was unable now to keep the grin off his face.

 

"You ARE pouting!" he cried, giggling. "Brian Kinney…And you call ME a drama queen!" he declared in surprise, tugging at the brunet's arm to try and get his attention. The only response he noticed was his partner folding his arms across his chest in defiance of the blond's statement.

 

"I do NOT pout!" he finally snarled. "It's just that…..you make me sound so _ordinary_ ," he stated, obviously bothered by the insinuation. Calling him ordinary was just as bad as calling him… _straight_. Maybe even worse.

 

Justin leaned up on his tiptoes to whisper in the other man's ear. " _Mr. Kinney_ ," he began seductively, his breath like a soft caress on the other man's cheek. "You, sir, would _never_ be ORDINARY, even when you're a ninety-year-old. Of course, when you're ninety, I'll only be 78, so I might have to find someone a little more my age by then." As Brian scrunched up his face in a grimace and rolled his eyes, Justin clarified, "Don't worry, though….I'm sure you'll be _quite exciting_ until you're at least 80 or so."

 

Brian snorted. "I feel so much better now," he retorted. He could never stay perturbed with Justin for long – _damn annoying twat_. He smirked now at his partner; looking around furtively for anyone whose small-town sensibilities he might shock, he was heartened to find that the proverbial sidewalk had been rolled up in town – there was no one nearby to prohibit a little bit of good old-fashioned tongue dueling. "I'll show you _exciting_ ," he growled. As Justin giggled, he roughly grabbed his partner by the neck and shoved his body up against a nearby storefront. Placing his hands on either side of the artist's blond head, he stopped for a second to peer into the twinkling blue eyes before crushing his mouth against the other man's and devouring the full lips, seeking a deeper, tongue-probing kiss.

 

Several minutes later, a breathless Justin was finally permitted to come up for air. It was a few seconds before he had breathed in enough oxygen to be able to speak to his partner, who now had him embraced in a full-body hug. Still panting rapidly from the physical workout, he reassured Brian, "I _like_ predictable. You're predictably _exciting_."

 

Brian nodded. "Ding, ding, ding….Good answer, Mr. Taylor," he quipped, smiling, his arms still firmly around the blond's back. He couldn't help leaning in for one more, lighter, tender kiss before the two finally resumed their casual stroll down the street. Observing the mainly closed shops now, Brian commented, "I don't think we have to worry about becoming overexcited in _this_ town. Doesn't _anything_ stay open past 7 around here?" He shook his head in disgust at the sleepy ambiance. This was a little _too_ laid back for his taste, even if they _were_ on vacation. It sure wasn't Ibiza by _any_ means. Hell, it wasn't even Scranton

 

Justin smiled in amusement at the brunet's disappointment. Truth be told, right now Justin didn't care _where_ they were – as long as Brian was with him, he was happy. He noticed, however, that directly up ahead there DID appear to be something open. "Look," he said, pointing to a brightly lit building set apart from the adjacent stores. "Something's open down there. Let's go check it out." He looked over at Brian hopefully, a silent _please_ on his lips and a pleading look in the sparkling, wishful eyes.

 

 

Brian shook his head. _No fair with the puppy-dog look, Mr. Taylor. You KNOW I can't say no to that._ "Something tells me I'm going to regret this," he said warily, as Justin's eyes lit up with excitement. He lightly jumped up and down on his feet as he urged the other man along. "Come on…..let's go see what it is!"

 

"Yippee!" Brian cried in a mock sign of eagerness. "Maybe they're having a sheep shearing contest!" He stopped in his tracks, hoping that maybe Justin would be discouraged from verifying if he was correct. In this town, he decided that _anything_ was possible.

 

He was appalled, however, by his partner's reaction. "That would be so _cool_!" he said. "I've never seen that before! You think that's what it _is?"_ He looked over at Justin to see if the man was actually serious. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me, Sunshine? I wouldn't be caught dead in a bunch of…."

 

"Sheep shit," Justin supplied, dodging the other man as he tried to take a swing at his ass. "Nice try," he said, wiggling his butt at the other man in a taunt. "So _predictable_ ," he whispered in his partner's ear, as Brian glared at him again. He had hoped that previous conversation had effectively been concluded, but apparently it had not. He resolved to show his partner just how _unpredictable_ he was later…..when they were _alone_. _We'll SEE whose PREDICTABLE_ , _buster_.

 

As they neared the open doors of the establishment, it was obvious from the blaring country music inside and the constant, boisterous din of the voices clamoring for attention that it was clearly a bar. What Brian believed would be called a _honky-tonk_ bar. As in an _I don't have any fucking business being caught DEAD in one of these_ bars. He shook his head in disgust at the twangy, guitar-laden song being played loudly by a local live band performing at the back of the room; it sounded like a bad Karaoke version of Rascal Flatts. Of course, he would rather be caught dead in a polyester suit from K-Mart than admit to anyone that he even knew who Rascal Flatts _was_.

 

Justin, however, stood at the entrance, totally enthralled by all the commotion. The place was surprisingly packed, maybe because it appeared at the moment to be the only place in town that _WAS_ open. The room was smoky, loud, and occupied by wall to wall people, mainly wearing jeans, leather cowboy hats, and long-sleeved cotton shirts. Several men and women stood at the long, dark wood bar located at the left side of the large room, drinks in hand; several small, round wooden tables with high chairs were scattered around the remainder of the room and faced a stage at the back where the band was currently playing. Most of the tables presently seemed to be occupied by a mixture of male and female, young and old, each seemingly having a grand time.

 

"Let's go in," Justin suggested, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. As Brian stood there in the doorway, hesitating, Justin told him, "You _said_ you didn't want to be predictable. Well, this would be the _last_ place you would expect Brian Kinney to visit. Here's your chance," he urged him, winking. To Brian, it sounded like the same tone of voice Justin had used the night of the Pride Parade, when he told Brian he had one last shot at fucking someone at the bar before the two of them had wound up dancing together out on the street. At the moment, he thought he would prefer having his fingernails pulled out by pliers than go into this cowboy's paradise. But, hey…..what the hell. It seemed to be the only game in town at the moment. And at least they served _some_ form of liquor. If he got smashed enough, he wouldn't care _what_ type of bar it was. "Lead the way, Maw," he finally drawled resignedly, as Justin eagerly pulled him into the bar.

 

They eventually managed to wedge themselves between two rather burly, mustached brunets who were thankfully too intent on attracting the eyes of a pair of women sitting at a nearby table to notice them. After a couple rounds of whiskey, Brian was actually beginning to relax a little. Even the songs the band was playing were becoming more tolerable; they had the same type of thumpa, thumpa beat of the music like they typically heard at Babylon, albeit in a radically different format. Even though they were unfamiliar to him, he and Justin didn't have any problems picking up some of the lyrics, especially the one the band was currently singing:

 

" _Riding up and down Broadway, On my old stud Leroy, And the girls say, Save a horse, ride a cowboy.  
Everybody says, Save a horse, Ride a cowboy!"_

 

"I LIKE this place!" Brian decided, as he finished loudly singing the last of the lyrics; he raised his glass of whiskey in a half-drunken salute as Justin laughed. _"_ I wouldn't mind riding a cowboy right now!" he cried out enthusiastically.

 

As they finished off a few stanzas of "I've Got Some Friends in Low Places" a few minutes later, they turned around, their backs against the bar, to observe what several men and women were shouting over in a dark corner of the tavern. Brian's curiosity was aroused by a mechanical bull set up in the corner; a tall, skinny, hapless man was attempting to stay on the gyrating machine. After a few seconds, however, he was violently thrown from the makeshift contraption to the utter glee and laughter of everyone nearby, who scurried around with dollar bills afterward to collect on their bets.

 

Justin was raptly taking in everything occurring inside; his artistic nature was fascinated by the people, music, sights, and most of all, the bull. He had heard of them, but had never seen one up close, and he found it fascinating. "How in the world can anyone _stay_ on one of those fucking things?" he asked Brian with amusement.

 

"Oh, it doesn't look _that_ hard," Brian advised his partner nonchalantly in a boastful tone. He was currently on his fourth whiskey and was rapidly feeling no pain at the moment; in fact, the two burly, mustached man standing nearby were beginning to look rather fuckable to him. He thought he even saw Tiny from the salon standing at the end of the bar and for few seconds considered strolling over to him to get reacquainted. He thought better of it, however, when he remembered Justin's look of death earlier when he was lying on the massage table and Tiny had tried to flirt with him.

 

"Oh, really?" Justin was chiding him, as he turned his attention back to his partner. "Did you see how long that poor schmuck stayed on that thing? It couldn't have been more than 5 seconds tops. There's no way anyone could stay on it longer than 15 seconds."

 

"Oh, I don't know, _my little cowpoke_ ," Brian slurred, grinning. " _You've_ always managed to hang on for much longer than 15 seconds," he teased, getting a red-face acknowledgement from his embarrassed partner in return. "If YOU can stay on longer than 15 seconds, I'm sure _I_ could, then," he bragged, winking at the blond arrogantly. He turned around and slapped his drink down on the bar counter, the liquid sloshing out of the glass. "Bartender!" he shouted to the man standing behind the counter. "Keep my place warm – I'm about to do a little _ridin' and ropin'._ " He proceeded to swagger over toward the back of the room toward the bull as Justin following closely behind him in alarm.

 

"Brian! Are you out of your fucking _mind_?" Justin asked his lover, frantic. "You can't be serious! You've _never_ ridden one of those things before! You're going to _kill_ yourself!" he cried. He tugged at Brian's arm, trying urgently to impede his movement before the man effectively committed suicide.

 

"Now, Sunshine, don't go a frettin' your pretty little head off," Brian drawled lazily as he pulled Justin along with him. "You wanted me to be _unpredictable_. Here we go!" Brian declared, smiling broadly. "You can give me pointers – you're such a good little _rider_!"

 

Justin flushed as he was certain Brian's comment had to be overheard by several of the nearby patrons; the others, however, simply laughed at the man's comical display as he pulled himself up straight and swaggered over to the ride attendant. Pulling out a twenty, he shouted to him, "Keep the change, my good man," sounding remarkably like he had suddenly acquired an English accent with a Southern twang.

 

"Brian, you don't have to do this!" Justin looked with dread, fear, and more than just a little concern at the looming, imposing dark brown, fake fur beast waiting to devour its next victim, who just happened to be his boyfriend. _This isn't going to be pretty_ , Justin thought, wincing, as Brian swaggered over to the machine.

 

"Git along, little doggie!" he shouted to the contraption, smacking it soundly on the side of its rump. As Justin looked over with extreme trepidation at the impending disaster about to play out, Brian bowed to him and tipped his imaginary cowboy hat in salute before he grabbed the leather reins and hoisted himself up with surprising adeptness onto the back of the bull. "Start this little heifer _up_!" he instructed the ride attendant with a broad, boastful sneer as he jiggled the leather strap impatiently.

 

"I can't watch," Justin muttered, momentarily averting his face and covering his eyes with his hands as a loud claxon sounded and he heard the beginning clicks and gear movement of the beast coming to life. As the rowdy crowd hooted and whistled, the sound of the bull starting up became louder and more aggressive as Justin finally dared to remove his hands and peer over at his partner, who was bouncing up and down on top of the bull, one hand on the reins and the other one raised up in the air as if he were trying to lead a roundup out on the western prairie somewhere. "Yee, Haw!" he shouted exuberantly, smiling broadly.

 

_Oh, My God._ Like a spectator unable to look away at an impending train wreck, Justin cringed as he saw the bull quickly speeding up and Brian's eyes now becoming large in alarm as he now grabbed desperately at the reins, furiously trying to stay upright on the bull. His lean, long body gyrated wildly now as he was thrown up and down on the beast, his feet actually coming out of the stirrups with each yanking, jerking movement. It made the most strenuous fucking the two had done look pale by comparison. In fact, if Justin hadn't been so worried about his partner breaking his neck at the moment, the sight of Brian bobbing up and down so powerfully on the bull might have made him downright horny.

 

The brunet miraculously managed to stay atop the bull for approximately 10 seconds before he lost his tenuous grip on the reins and was violently thrown off to the side, coming to land squarely on his ass about 5 feet away. The crowd laughed uproariously at his ungraceful fall from triumph, and promptly forgot the brunet's brief, cursory moment in the spotlight as they quickly turned their attention to the next hapless victim who was foolishly thinking he would be the one to conquer the heartless machine.

 

Justin gasped as he saw Brian fall from the bull and land roughly on the ground; thankfully the surrounding area was furnished with rubber matting, so his fall was not as bone shattering as it might have been otherwise. As he rushed forward to help his partner, however, he noticed him now lying completely flat on the floor, his glassy eyes staring unfocused up at the ceiling.

 

Justin hurried to kneel next to his partner, his face a mirror of great worry and fear. "Brian!" he cried. "Are you _all right?_!" He reached down to gently brush the brunet's bangs from his eyes, and was relieved to notice Brian finally turn his head to look at him, his eyes managing to focus on the worried blue ones. "Are you all right?" he repeated, brushing the knuckles of his hand against the other man's cheek. "Say something," he encouraged him urgently.

 

He heard Brian moan as he slowly turned over on his side and rubbed his ass. "Oh, God," he wheezed out. "I guess I should have ridden a cowboy instead," he panted out, breathing heavily from the painful exertion as Justin reached under his arms to help support his weight. "You crazy asshole," he reprimanded him, as Brian slowly stood up and moaned again in pain.

 

Justin shook his head in exasperation. "Brian," he murmured in disbelief. "What were you _thinking?_ " he chided him gently, as he continued to help prop the other man up.

 

Brian's face was full of pain as he managed to choke out, "I was thinking…" he began, slightly stammering as his head swam dizzyingly, "I was thinking that I'll let YOU do the riding from now on."


	10. Those Dang Revenuers!

Brian and Justin finally stumbled back to their campsite and the _infamous_ tent around 2:00 a.m. Although his partner could barely see above the SUV's steering wheel, after being violently thrown off the mechanical bull and injuring his ass (as well as his pride) yet again, Brian had had no choice but to allow an only slightly inebriated Justin to drive them back to their campsite. Of course, by the time they got back, Brian had a pounding headache to go along with his sore ass, mainly because a certain blond insisted on singing the main theme song from the musical _Oklahoma_ several times at the top of his voice; _where the HELL did he even get the lyrics to all these musicals?_ He made a mental note to KILL Jennifer when they returned home to the loft – that HAD to be the source for his partner's seemingly unlimited supply of tortuous musical song lyrics. And the fucker was taking an inordinate glee in singing them – over and over and over and over again.

 

" _You're doing fine, Oklahoma – Oklahoma – OK_!" Justin enthusiastically sang out in his grand finale as Brian clamped a long-fingered hand over his partner's mouth.

 

"OK is RIGHT! Will you _shut the fuck UP already? I can't take any fucking MORE, Justin!"_ Brian pinched his nose in pain, trying desperately to quell the migraine he felt quickly coming on as he glared at the blond, who simply giggled at his misery.

 

"Ow! There you go again with that _vampire_ shit!" he snarled, as he pulled his hand back quickly where Justin had bit hard into the fleshy part of his palm.

 

Justin huffed, indignant. "Well! I guess there's no accounting for _good taste_!" he harrumphed.

"Oh, my God – If I ever _heard_ anything in good taste, maybe I'd know!" he groused at the blond. "My head is fucking _killing_ me – give me a break, okay?" he pleaded now; if reason wouldn't work, maybe begging would – _anything_ to tone his headache down. He shook his head in exasperation as he walked over and gingerly sat down on a large, fallen tree branch. "This damn camping trip has been one _huge, fucking mistake_ from the very beginning!" he growled. "God! How did I ever let myself get talked into _doing_ _this_ with you _?"_ Brian knew the second those words fell from his lips that he had made a mistake. _Uh, oh._ He looked over at his crestfallen partner's face, whose eyes were suddenly bright and tearful. He watched Justin purse his lips together firmly before he whispered, "Well, don't let me fucking _keep you here_ ," he replied, ice dripping from his tone. "Take the goddamned SUV back into the _big, bad city_ and I'll just stay here by myself in the tent! Unlike you, my ass is in tip-top shape and I can still WALK to the lodge for a ride! I'm sure I can find some big, burly, studly coal miner who would be just _thrilled_ to let me hitch a ride back into Pittsburgh with him….for the _right incentive!"_ He wiggled his perky little butt dramatically before abruptly turning on his heels and stomping down toward the bank, eventually plopping himself down dejectedly near the lake with his back to his partner.

 

_Damn_. Brian knew that was the wrong choice of words; it wasn't that he wasn't glad to be with _Justin_ ; he just felt like an alien from another planet here. He had gotten a slight taste of camping during the Liberty Ride when Justin was in Hollywood; that had been _more_ than enough for him. Instead of looking forward to slapping his partner's butt in the midst of some playful fucking, he had spent the entire time slapping his leg or arm every time a mosquito landed on it. But his partner had wanted to go camping so badly, he just couldn't say no. Now that decision was coming back to haunt him, and he had managed to hurt his sensitive partner's feelings in the process. Through the moonlight overhead, he watched as Justin's shoulders drooped and he heard a mournful sigh escape the blond's lips; he knew, headache and sore ass or not, he had better make amends – _now_.

 

He slowly and carefully half-walked, half-stumbled down the bank toward his partner, who he saw hugging himself as if he were cold; he hadn't really noticed that until now that the still, mountain air was noticeably colder at night, because normally he had a very warm, soft _Justin blanket_ snuggled against him. He wondered if he was going to have to do _without_ that tonight.

 

Justin saw his partner approaching him out of the corner of his eye; he deliberately turned his head away to the side to ignore him. If Brian was going to try and grovel, he would have to do it up _right_. It wasn't as if he had _forced_ the man to come with him – he just had to promise some hot, passionate sex under the stars and the man was like putty in his hands. Apparently, though, his partner had decided that wasn't enough for him. Well, he could do just fine out in the wilderness by himself, thank you very much. At least if he had a hunting rifle, maybe to ward off the grizzlies. But he wasn't about to let his partner know that the thought of spending _any_ time out here by himself unnerved him; the man wasn't going to get that satisfaction. As soon as Brian left, he would just hightail it down to the lodge and spend a few days there by himself; let his _partner_ guess what happened to him, and who he was _with_. It would serve the man right. _So there – take THAT, Lonesome Cowboy._

 

He heard a slight rustling of clothing and smelled Brian's distinctive scent of cologne as the brunet delicately set his still-sore ass down next to him. He heard Brian sigh – he wasn't sure if it was in pain, exasperation, regret, or a combination thereof – before he felt a gentle grip on his stiff, tightly tense shoulder. "Justin," Brian began softly. Unfortunately, the only reaction from his partner was to twist his body enough that he could shrug Brian's hand off his shoulder. _Okay….must do more groveling….._

 

"Sunshine," he purred softly, drawing the syllables out slowly. Usually just the name of his partner, (whether his given name or his nickname), with just the right tone of voice – a little tender and a whole lot sexy – achieved the desired result. But this time, Justin remained stonily silent as he continued to sulk. Brian sighed again and rolled his eyes, making sure the other man didn't see him do it; he could just hear his reaction from _that_ motion.

 

Brian _loathed_ having to verbalize his feelings, even after being with this complicated drama princess for several years now. But Justin had managed to somehow coax his feelings out in the open when necessary, despite his abhorrence of it. He steeled himself now for just such an occasion. "Justin," he began again gently, taking a breath. "You _know_ I always enjoy being with you. It's not _you_ , Sunshine….." he tried to explain, gesturing with his arms in emphasis; he wasn't sure if his partner was actually listening or not, because there was no discernible reaction from the blond. "But I'm just not cut out to be a _Boy Scout_ ," he admitted. At least _that_ comment definitely produced a slight snort from his partner. _Better than nothing_. "I feel as comfortable here as I would be having tea with the Ice Queen Mother – and I _don_ 't mean Elizabeth. Or going to the opera with Theodore. Or going clothes shopping with Emmett for a new spandex tangerine workout suit." He thought he finally saw a slight smile appear on Justin's face, but from his angle it was hard to tell for sure.

 

"But during the past week, we've had a hailstorm, bears, and a sunken canoe that totally ruined my new Gucci loafers. Not to mention the three times that one of my most cherished and valued possessions received damage. And that doesn't even _touch_ the fucking _clown_ hair I received at the hands of that demon hair stylist." He peered over at his partner and now distinctly saw a smile break out. _Of course he WOULD find the orange hair funny – little twat._ "And let's not forget the wonderful cuisine you're tried to pawn off on me as _gourmet_ – I mean, come on, Sunshine! _Spam_ and Taylor Egg In a Can Omelets?"

 

"Taylor McMuffins,"Justin softly corrected him. Brian smiled; at least they were getting somewhere now. Those were the first words Justin had spoken aloud since he had sat down next to him.

 

"Okay," he agreed congenially enough. " _McMuffins_. I stand corrected. And let's not even go into all those dorky hats – or the, God, can I even _call_ it that? _Singing_ – John Denver and musical divas notwithstanding. By the way, remind me again to kill your mother when we get home."

 

"But you still have Tiny," Justin pointed out softly, now apparently, _finally_ , beginning to see the humor in the whole situation. Brian breathed a soft sigh of relief at his partner's apparent relenting.

 

Brian chuckled a little. "Yeah…..Tiny. I can certainly see where he got _that_ name," Brian confided to him under his breath. "Not a pretty sight – and that's with _clothes_ on." He pretended to shudder for dramatic effect, evoking yet another slight smile from his partner. It still wasn't quite the full-fledged, genuine smile he was looking for, though. "But Tiny isn't what made this week tolerable. It was _you_."

 

He heard Justin breath out a slight huff of annoyance. _Uh, huh…..not quite the effect I was going for here. Maybe it was that word "tolerable."_ He winced as he realized what he had said. _Time to backtrack a little here._ "What I _meant_ was…..Despite my feeling like a total fish out of water here – _trout_ in this case – despite feeling totally out of my comfort zone , I've actually _enjoyed_ being with YOU. I just wish I was enjoying being with you _somewhere else_ – somewhere with running water, a bathroom, and a soft bed."

 

He waited in silence for his partner's response uncomfortably. Was his explanation enough? _I'm trying to be truthful here, Sunshine. Give me a little leeway_.

 

Finally, after a few seconds, Justin finally turned to face him. "At least you still had the _Charmin_ ," he pointed out helpfully.

 

Brian smiled. "It wasn't _my_ little tush that needed it, Sunshine. I seemed to recall that item being at the top of your supply list before we left."

 

Justin agreed, "No, I beg to differ, _Mr. Kinney_ ," he retorted playfully now. "It may not have been _your little tush_ , as your call it, but it still _belongs to YOU_." He looked down now, uncharacteristically seeming a little embarrassed. "I was just protecting your _interests_."

 

Brian curled his lips under and peered over at his partner, his eyes twinkling in mischief. "How very charitable of you, Mr. Taylor. I didn't realize how thoughtful you were being. I'll have to make sure I pay a little _extra special attention_ to your little tush…..tonight, hopefully." He looked over at the blond with his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

 

Justin was silent for a few seconds as he twisted his upper body around to take a quick look at the subject matter in question. "I don't think it has any prior engagements tonight," he announced solemnly. "I think…..we could _come_ to a mutually agreement arrangement, _Mr. Kinney_."

 

Brian smiled broadly now. "I was _hoping_ you – and your ass – would see it my way, Sunshine." He nudged the blond with his shoulder before reaching out to grab the pale neck and pull him flush against his chest before bestowing a kiss on his cheek.

 

"Is that the best you can _do_?" Justin quipped. He squealed as the other man grabbed his waist and proceeded to tickle him just where he knew it would get the most vocal response. That wasn't quite the action Justin had been wanting but he couldn't help the giggles that erupted from his lips. "Brian….. _stop it!"_ he protested in between fits of laughter, as he tried wriggling away from the other man's relentless pursuit without success; Brian had too firm a hold on his waist. The two men finally fell to the ground with Brian on top of him. The brunet gently but firmly grasped the smaller hands and pinned them over Justin's head as he took advantage of their position to finally give his partner what he had wanted all along. As their lips met and began their familiar dance, all hurt and anger promptly melted to be replaced by something much more pleasurable.

 

As Justin finally was allowed to come back up for air several minutes later, he managed to mumble breathlessly, "Brian…mosquitoes….. _tent_."

 

Brian already had succeeded somehow in removing Justin's shirt and was working on the buttons of his jeans when he realized, reluctantly, that Justin had a point. Nothing like a barrage of mosquito bites to kill the moment, not to mention the _itching_ later. Swooping down to place one more passionate kiss on the pink lips, he whispered huskily to his partner, "Let's go make some _whoopee_ , Sunshine," before he grudgingly released his hold on his partner and stood up, leaning down to grasp the waiting hands so he could gently pull the other man up into his arms to hug his body to his own tightly.

 

"Brian…Unless you want to run a three-legged race with me, you're going to have to let me go," Justin said, giggling still. Brian was still a little sloshed from his go-round at the honky-tonk and was acting just a little goofy as a result. Justin decided he didn't exactly dislike it, though.

 

"Huh!" Brian protested; Justin squealed as Brian suddenly scooped down and picked him up in his arms like he was carrying a baby – a rather big, blond baby. "I'm a gonna have my way with you, _Maw_ ," he drawled, smiling, in his newly-acquired Southern accent. "The young'ns are gone for the night and it's _our_ turn to part-ee," he declared, as Justin quickly wrapped his arms around the other man's neck to keep from falling. With Brian's current inebriated state, there was a distinct possibility that he might inadvertently do just that. That would certainly put a damper on their pending plans for a good round of old-fashioned fucking if Brian managed to drop him on his head – or his ass; he decided that would be even _worse_.

 

"Lead the way, Paw," Justin finally drawled in kind, giggling. Brian would probably have a fucker of a hangover tomorrow, but for now the blond was going to take full advantage of his offer.

 

"Now you're talkin', Sunshine," the brunet asserted, lips curled under in that wonderfully endearing look that was pure Brian. He swung Justin around to face the camp as he teetered precariously for a few seconds before righting himself. Justin sighed a silent breath of relief as his partner started slowly trudging back up the bank toward their tent. Justin took advantage of Brian's occupied hands gripping his waist to start unbuttoning the other man's shirt; no point in wasting valuable time here, he decided.

 

He had just succeeded in unbuttoning the last button and was relishing in the feel of the warm, taut chest currently being explored under his probing fingers when he felt Brian stop abruptly. "What the fuck?" he heard him say, as he noticed the other man squinting at a white square sheet tacked up to a nearby tree. "What the hell is _that_?" he asked his partner, as he gently lowered Justin to the ground and walked closer to the tree.

 

In the moonlight overhead, the two men could make out that it was some type of notice, because there was definitely writing on it, but it was just a little too dim to decipher the words. Brian fished around in his jeans pocket and located the disposable lighter he had stashed there previously. Flicking it to life, he held it up close to the tree so the crudely-written note could be read:

 

_Attention: West Virginia Revenuers_

_Don't Tread On Our Property! We Will Defend our God-Given Right to Make Our Own Moonshine! Stay Away! We Will Defend The Constitution With Our Dying Breaths! You Have Been WARNED!_

 

Brian and Justin stared at each other in a combination of amusement and disbelief. "Are they fucking _serious?"_ Brian wondered, shaking their head. "What – are they afraid the cops are going to come and take their corn cobs away? Or maybe come and break their widdle stills?"

 

Justin giggled. "I guess their priorities are a little different than ours," he observed, smiling.

 

"Speaking of which," Brian stated, not really giving the note much notice; he had more important matters to carry out. "Where _were_ we, Sunshine? I believe we were just about to exercise one of _our_ God-given rights, too….." Leering at the other man now, he scooped him back up in his arms and carried him hastily over to their tent, concentrating intently on trying to see where they were going while they were kissing each other madly. Justin managed to kick the tent flap open just before Brian unceremoniously plopped his partner down on the sleeping blanket. "Time to do some _plowing_ , Maw," he declared before his he roughly ripped the other man's jeans open with his hands and the brunet head swooped down to do just that.

* * *

 

"Do you know what _time_ it is?" Michael whispered to his co-conspirator from behind the tree. "Ben's going to wonder if _I_ got eaten by a grizzly this time. It's got to be after 2:00 am."

 

"Oh, chill out, Michael," Emmett scolded him. "This is Brian and Justin we're talking about. Did you really think they'd retire to their little fucking palace at a decent hour? Do you want to do this or _not_?" he asked his friend pointedly.

 

"Well, we're already here and we've already got the sign up – we might as well go all the way now," he groused. "At least they _did_ read the sign – but judging from Brian's reaction, I don't think they took it too seriously," he observed as he peeked around the large oak tree trunk approximately 25 feet from the Justin and Brian's tent. He could hear their boisterous _plowing_ from even their location over here; it didn't take an expert to tell that both men were presently thoroughly enjoying themselves, and oblivious to their presence.

 

"Well, I'd say from the sound of things, they are properly unclothed for the occasion, at least," Em told his friend enthusiastically. "Let's go," he urged the other man, tugging at his arm.

 

"Are you sure this is going to _work_?" Michael asked him doubtfully. "I've never heard of this before. It sounds crazy to me."

 

Em looked at him patronizingly. "Well, what do you think my cousins and I did back home in Alabama when we wanted to have a little fun? This'll work – trust me. They won't know what hit them….but I guess that's the point, isn't it?" he asked, smiling evilly. "Just get ready to run as soon as they hear it, because believe me, they won't be staying in that tent after this; I don't care _how_ much they're enjoying their little _adventure."_

 

"Okay," Michael hesitantly agreed, reaching in his parka jacket to bring out the ammunition. "You got the match for the camp stove?" he inquired.

 

Emmett grinned. "Right here," he assured him, as he held up a box of stick matches. "Come on," he urged him again. "They're way too busy to notice us right now – no time like the present."

 

Michael nodded, smiling conspiratorially now as the two men quietly approached the folded-up camping stove located nearby. Slowly and painstakingly taking their time, they managed to erect the camp stove on its stand with a minimal amount of sound; from the increasingly vocal reaction coming from the two men in their tent, they definitely would not have heard anything.

 

"Okay," Em said, nodding satisfactorily as he turned the propane knob and lit the match; a blue and yellow flame rose promptly as the combustion took place. "Hand me the can. It's going to take a few minutes before it heats up and then…. _look out!_ " He clapped his hands quietly in glee. "This is going to be better than the fake bear!" he whispered, a broad smile on his face. He almost hated to do this to Justin, but he was with Brian, and pulling the proverbial wool over that man's eyes was just _too good_ to pass up.

 

"I hope you know what you're doing," Michael whispered to him a little fearfully. "If he ever finds out I'm involved with this…let's just say it wouldn't be pretty," he confided to Em. "But I have to admit – it's been _fun_ ," he declared, laughing quietly. He handed the can of baked beans over to his friend. "Any other time, Brian would actually find this funny, too…as long as it was happening to _someone else_. In high school, he could give as good as he got, believe me. You remember the judge that was stuck to the toilet seat at Hobbs' trial? That had Brian written ALL over it."

 

Emmett smiled as he placed the medium-sized tin can directly on the rapidly-heating burner. "Then you're doing Brian _proud_ , Sweetie, believe me," he assured his friend, grinning. "Now let's back away from here before the fun begins. I want to _see this_." Fortunately, there was still ¾ of a full-moon left so they should have plenty of light for what they needed.

 

As they peered out from behind their oak tree, Michael asked, "Are you _sure_ this is going to work?" Five minutes had passed and there was no apparent change in the can sitting on the stove. "Maybe it's supposed to be refried beans, or lima beans. _Shit_ – there's so _many_ beans! Are you _sure_ you use _baked beans_?"

 

Emmett glared at him self-righteously. "I'll have you know you're talking to a down-home country boy," he informed his friend. "Trust me – it's _baked beans_. I'm not sure why you use them, or even how it works. I just know it _does_ ," he said confidently, nodding his head for emphasis.

 

Michael shivered as he continued to eye the stove dubiously. It was starting to get chilly and he was beginning to wish he was back at the lodge in his and Ben's warm, king-sized bed instead of standing here jiggling his feet back and forth trying to stay warm. "Two more minutes," he warned Em. "Then I'm _out of here_."

 

* * *

 

"Mmmm," Justin moaned in ecstasy, writhing in delicious torment as Brian continued to languorously lap at his cock, his head bobbing up and down in a perfect, tortuous rhythm. No one knew how to give him as much pleasure as his partner. They had performed this sensual ritual so much over the past few years they both knew how to bring each other to the brink of absolute bliss before teasingly pulling back to prolong their satisfaction as long as possible. Justin would never grow tired of this game if he lived to be a hundred years old.

 

"Delicious," Brian mumbled huskily as he released his suctioning hold on the other man; Justin arched off the sleeping bag and groaned as the brunet raked his fingernails lightly on the underside of his cock before he grabbed the shaft and prepared to dive back in to the task at hand; soon he would be moving on to some downright _plowing_ of his favorite boy's ass.

 

Their fucking was forgotten in an instant, however, as they suddenly heard the loudest bang they had ever heard, following by a staccato of smaller noises that sounded like gunshots. Both men's hearts almost leapt out of their chests as they both started in shock at the sound; Justin bolted upright, knocking Brian down to the ground as he struggled frantically to stand up.

 

"Oh, my God!" Justin screamed. "It must be the _moonshiners!"_ he decided. "They're after the revenuers! Maybe they think WE'RE _revenuers!_ Let's get _out of here!"_ Apparent gunshots continued to rain down all over them as the sound reverberated through their camp site and sounded like they were practically on top of them. "Brian – let's go!" he cried urgently, as he pulled at the other man's arm in a desperate attempt to raise him up from the open sleeping bag. "The SUV – we've got to make a _run_ for it!" he shouted. "These fuckers are _crazy!_ Come on!" he cried, looking around frantically for the keys to their rental vehicle in a terrible sense of déjà vu. Not _again_...

 

As Brian snatched his jeans up and began to put them on, Justin took a second to glare at him in disbelief. "You worrying about being _modest NOW?_ Forget the fucking pants, Brian!" Let's go!" he urged the other man, tugging on his arm violently as the shots continued to explode all around them. "My God! I can't _believe this!_ These people are fucking crazy! Come on!" he cried again, pulling roughly at Brian's hand to try and urge the still slightly buzzed brunet to get moving.

 

"Okay, okay," Brian grumbled loudly, trying hard to be heard over the gunshots echoing all around. "I'm coming….and not in a _good way!_ " he groused, as he finally got his feet moving and following the blond over to the tent flap. As before, they peered out into the relative darkness, trying to ascertain where the gunshots were coming from.

 

As Justin poked his head out, Brian snatched him back. "Are you _crazy,_ Justin?" You could get your fucking head shot off! Maybe we should stay in the tent," he shouted over the continuing din. The thought of being a tin duck in a shooting gallery at the carnival came to mind as he debated the wisdom of their escape plan.

 

"Do you really think a canvas tent is going to keep bullets from coming through?" he shouted to Brian in disbelief. "Who do you think we ARE - Superman?" Justin yelled. "I'm getting _out of here!_ No more camping – no more camping," he kept repeating in a chant as he grabbed their jeans and clutched the two pairs in his hand. "Please, God…..get me out of here safely and I promise I will never take Brian camping ever again…."

 

Brian grabbed his hand and prepared to make a run for it. He made sure he pressed the unlock button on the SUV key fob before he grabbed at his partner's hand and yelled, "I'm going to hold you to that, Sunshine…..if we ever get out of here alive!" before he grasped the other man's hand and made a mad sprint for their rental vehicle, Justin running close behind him, his perky little ass bobbing up and down as they ran. As they got to the SUV, both men automatically crouched down behind the passenger side door for cover. "I think you've been watching too many reruns of _Miami Vice_ ," Justin muttered to the brunet as shots continued to be heard all around them. "Very funny," Brian snapped. "Get in the car," he ordered Justin as he gallantly opened the door for his partner and shoved him inside first; he quickly fell into the vehicle alongside Justin and stooped down in the seat out of eyeshot of any shooters.

 

* * *

 

"Oh, my God! That was _hysterical!"_ Emmett whispered gleefully, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet as he looked over at Michael, who had clapped his own hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his own laughter as the exploding beans _finally_ were silenced. "Those Bush's Baked Beans worked the best! I'll have to remember that brand from now on!"

 

"What – are you planning on doing this again _to someone else?"_ Michael asked him a little too loudly, as Emmett shushed him urgently; even though Brian and Justin were still huddled in their SUV, he didn't want to take any chances of the two men hearing them.

 

"Well, there's always family reunions," he pointed out, as Michael rolled his eyes. "Bur for now, I'd say we'd better get out of here before they come out of there," he suggested. "Although...after all those _buck shots from the moonshiners_ , they may want to stay in there a while to make sure the coast is clear," he added, smiling at their success.

 

"Yeah, let's make a run for it while we can," Michael agreed. "The only pranks Brian likes are the ones he plays on someone _else_. And I know what type of retaliation he's capable of. The only time I want to be on the receiving of that is when I'm a witness to it, not the recipient."

 

"I hear that," Emmett said. "But you have to admit – it's been a _great_ week of camping – for US, anyway," he laughed, as the two of them turned and started walking back toward their vehicle parked about an 1/8 of a mile away.

 

* * *

 

Brian and Justin remained crouched down in the car for several minutes after the cacophony of shots finally ceased; the only sounds heard were their rapid, ragged breaths as they contemplated whether it was safe to emerge from the relative safety of their metal cocoon. Justin finally whispered fretfully, "Do you think they're gone?"

 

Brian shook his head. "I don't know. From the sound of things, there must have been a _lot_ of them. My God – I feel like I'm in the middle of a feud between the Hatfields and McCoys."

 

"The _who?"_ Justin asked him, puzzled.

 

Brian shook his head. "Never mind…..I'll explain later." He started to reach over to open the door slightly just before Justin pulled his hand back. "Brian! They could still be out there? Are you trying to get your fucking _head_ shot off?"

 

Brian had to admit – he had a point; he wasn't quite thrilled with the idea that he could possibly be missing an important part of his anatomy – after his cock, that is. But then again, it would be hard to give a decent blow job without a head, too. "Maybe you're right," he conceded grudgingly, thinking that maybe there was maybe a silver lining to all this; they at least had their pants they could put on (although if Brian had anything to say about, they wouldn't need to keep them on for very _long_ ), he had the keys to the SUV, his Gucci wallet, and – not that he would ever admit it to _him –_ but most important of all, he had _Justin_.

 

Brian turned to look at his partner, whose head was still ducked down behind the dashboard for safety. "What do you say we spend our last night of camping _really_ roughing it at the lodge instead? In an actual king-size bed with feather pillows and a soft down comforter, a Jacuzzi, and a fireplace?" He winced as he thought of how totally _lesbionic_ that just sounded, but the thought of spending at least one night in comfort nursing his sore ass back to health while fucking his partner senseless had a certain appeal to it.

 

But the broad smile of relief on Justin's face was worth it as he responded, "I think I could make that sacrifice for you. Although if we stayed _here_ , we might be able to get our hands on some top-grade moonshine."

 

"You mean before or after they shoot our fucking heads off?" he retorted. "I've had enough booze for tonight, thank you very much," Brian reported, as he sat up bravely in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, praying that some long-bearded man that looked like ZZ Top wouldn't come springing from the bushes suddenly and aim a shotgun at them before they had a chance to leave.

 

"Good point," Justin responded in agreement. This experience certainly wasn't like the camping brochure had made it out to be. Of course, he had a feeling they weren't your typical campers, either. "I vote for comfort and safety over authenticity."

 

"Now _you're_ talking, Sunshine," Brian nodded, as they finally turned back onto the main park road, leaving the shotgun-toting corn-liquor makers in the dust.


	11. Pranksters, Beware!

_Berkley Falls Lodge – Early Friday morning_

 

"Ahh," Brian murmured appreciatively as he luxuriated in the swirling jets of the Jacuzzi; the powerful streams of water were slowly untying all the tense knots he had gradually developed during the past week of his camping ordeal. As soon as he and Justin had checked into their suite at the lodge, he had literally thrown his clothes off the moment they had closed the door to their room and rushed to the balcony to turn on the outdoor whirlpool, oblivious to whether prying eyes were watching or not. Minutes later, he climbed into the soothing water and he had been there now for several minutes, eyes closed in ecstatic appreciation for finally being afforded some real creature comforts.

 

"Justin, you _have_ to check this out!" he called to his partner, who was still inside the suite. "Come and join me, Sunshine," he encouraged the blond. He didn't receive a prompt acknowledgment, however. _Just what was he DOING in there?_ Brian wasn't about to get out and go look for him, though; he was feeling far too blissful at the moment to move so much as one single, tired, aching muscle.

 

"Oh, my God!" He finally heard his partner cry out. He slowly opened his eyes with an effort, a little concerned that something was wrong until he heard Justin add, "You have _got_ to _see_ the furnished snack bar!" Brian rolled his eyes; only Justin would be enthralled with food at a time like this. _Where does the man PUT all that stuff_? Brian decided he would just have to offset his partner's snack intake by making sure that his metabolism was kept at a high level for the rest of their vacation; in fact, he knew of an excellent way for the blond to get some much-needed exercise, and for once it did not include a bear, bull, or fish.

 

"Sunshine…Step away from the snack bar," he ordered the other man, speaking as if he were talking to a perpetrator about to commit a crime. "Come here," he called out to his partner in that drawling, sexy tone of voice that he knew Justin normally couldn't resist. He softly breathed out as his listened for any telltale signs that the blond was following his directive. He was actually expecting to hear the telltale sounds of a candy bar wrapper being opened or cellophane crinkling from a snack bag. A few seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed as he noticed Justin walking out to the balcony with an opened bag of Cheetos. Brian smirked at the blond, who simply smiled sheepishly. He didn't really mind, however, because the bag of Cheetos was the _only_ item Justin had in his possession at the moment. As his completely nude partner approached the Jacuzzi, he ever so slowly sucked the orange residue from his fingers, winking at the brunet and smiling smugly. Brian groaned silently as his cock instantly began to harden at the sight. _Fucking little tease – there he is again with that slow-motion crap._

 

"Justin…Put the bag _down_. I am _not_ kissing someone with Cheetos breath," he retorted. "And I'm definitely _NOT_ fucking a greasy bottom."

 

"Ha," Justin answered. "You never complained about my oily bottom _before._ Besides, who said I _wanted_ to be fucked anyway?" His eyes twinkled as he looked over at Brian with his eyebrows raised in challenge.

 

"Well, first of all, Sunshine, I prefer to fuck you with _lube_ , not Crisco. And second of all, I think that perky little dick that's bobbing up and down for attention says _otherwise_ ," he cracked.

 

"Well, you're _half_ right," Justin growled, as he stuck his nose up in the air, insulted.

 

" _Which part –_ the perky or the little?" Brian asked innocently, curling his lips under to keep from laughing. Now that his body was finally being pampered the way it was accustomed to, he was beginning to enjoy this little back and forth bantering.

 

Justin's wounded look was too much for his partner, who promptly burst out laughing. "Come on, Sunshine…..Get your _ENORMOUS perky cock_ and your _PERFECT little bubble butt_ in here so we can do work off some of your Cheetos fetish."

 

Justin stood there, arms crossed over his chest in a weak show of defiance. Brian knew it wouldn't take much for the man to break, however; hell, his partner loved sex and fucking _almost_ as much as he loved snack food…..okay, maybe a little _more_ than snack food. Wiggling his finger at him to beckon him over, he cooed, "Come closer." The same words he had whispered to him once before a long time ago. The tone he knew the man couldn't resist. Sure enough, a few seconds later his partner abruptly threw the partially-eaten bag of Cheetos over his shoulder and, grinning now, rushed over to the Jacuzzi and vaulted over the side, managing to splash Brian violently as he laughed at his own antics.

 

"Justin!" Brian sputtered as he resurfaced. "You little _shit_ – you're going to _pay_ for THAT!" Justin didn't have time to react before Brian's eyes quickly took on a dangerous gleam and he promptly pulled the blond under the water by his waist as the younger man shrieked and giggled in shock.

 

As the blond came back up from the water, however, Brian looked at his full-of-life partner with his beaming, radiant smile, his tousled, wet, blond hair stuck to his head, and his pale, smooth chest dripping with shining droplets of water, and Brian's breath caught in his throat; the man was simply _beautiful_ , inside and out. And despite his dread of roughing it out in the remote terrain of West Virginia, and winding up having his body bruised and battered all week long, at that moment it was all forgotten as he drank in the sight of this sweet and passionate man, his equal in so many ways.

 

"Brian?" Justin asked tentatively, a question of curiosity on his lips at the odd way his lover was looking at him. The hazel eyes were boring into him, large and full of expression. When Brian didn't say anything with his lips, he could still say _everything_ with those eyes. Right now, though, he couldn't quite decipher the message he was trying to convey.

 

Brian shook his head as if to say it was nothing and smiled at him reassuringly before he slowly leaned over to place both of his hands on either side of Justin's face; Justin's eyes grew large as Brian reached over and placed a kiss on both eyelids and then his nose before finally nibbling on the blond's lower lip in a silent request for a deeper exploration. "Watch it," Justin murmured…. "Cheetos breath – remember?" he whispered, smiling, his eyes closed in rapture at the roaming caresses and tender kisses.

 

" _Fuck_ the Cheetos," Brian growled, before Justin chuckled softly and his lips came crashing down on his willing partner's.

 

* * *

 

"Brian?" Justin was relishing one of the few instances where his partner was actually…dare he say it, even in his mind? _Cuddling_. _Snuggling._ Yes, the great Brian Kinney was currently holding Justin firmly in his arms as they lay on their sides facing each other after an initial round of fucking in the Jacuzzi, followed by a couple of additional rounds in their king-sized bed with the oversized, down pillows and sateen sheets. Brian absentmindedly reached up to push away a few stray strands of fine, blond hair that were dangling over his partner's blue eyes that were staring back at him with unabashed, out-in-out adoration and love. _So, okay…..SHOOT me,_ Justin seemed to dare him _._ Brian no doubt would vehemently deny that he was presently acting out the part of a lesbionic, loving boyfriend and Justin wasn't about to call him on it; he was _enjoying_ the feeling way too much.

 

"Mmmm, Sunshine?" Brian asked sleepily, closing his eyes now as the week of events was quickly catching up with him. This was the first time since they had arrived here that he was in an actual _bed_ , one that didn't cave in on him or was hard as a rock from either lying on the cold ground of the tent or in the back seat of their rental SUV. This was an honest-to-God _bed._ A plush, feather bed with a warm, soft, breathing body lying in it that fit perfectly against his; and after several rounds of fucking and lovemaking, Brian decided it almost made up for having his ass beaten and battered all week. Maybe his luck was finally changing after all the rotten events that had conspired against them.

 

"Are you sorry you came camping with me?" Brian opened his eyes to peer down at his partner's face; he could feel his soft breath warmly tickling his chest but couldn't see into the eyes that were aimed downward. Surely Justin already knew the answer to that question, despite Brian's strong protests initially. While he could certainly have suggested more pleasant destinations to spend time with his lover, _any_ place where the two of them could be alone without interruptions was always a treasured occasion.

 

He slowly reached one hand around to cup the pale chin and gently turn Justin's face to stare up at his own. "Sorry?"

 

Justin nodded, blue eyes wide and expressive. He explained, "I know you came just because I _wanted_ you to."

 

Brian lifted one eyebrow, holding back the cheeky retort he _really_ wanted to say. "What gave it away? The fact that my ass has been battered all week or the fact that I had to be exposed to West Virginia culture and intervals of Spam forced-feeding?"

 

Justin smacked the brunet's ass as Brian protested. "Hey!" he snarled. "Did I not just mention my _sore_ ass?"

 

Justin grinned, blue eyes sparkling now. "Just checking to see how sore it _still_ is…I was planning on giving it a workout later," he whispered softly.

 

The husky, suggestive tone of his partner's voice instantly set his blood on fire and caused his pulse to speed up as Brian smirked, his lips curled under in the Kinney form of amusement. "Oh, you were, were you?"

 

Justin nodded solemnly. "You think it can handle the _excitement?_ The _HONOR?"_ Wandering, slender hands slowly rubbed circles around the brunet's two taut, firm globes before giving each twin mound a pinch.

 

Brian snorted as he heard Justin giggle. He playfully grabbed the blond hair to get his attention and gave it a tug to expose the creamy skin of his partner's neck. "It'll be difficult, but I think I've got the stamina if you've got the _know-how_ ," he whispered in a low drawl as he gave the pale skin a nibble on the neck and then moved to a nearby earlobe to nuzzle it, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the other man.

 

Brian began to rain butterfly kisses down the side of Justin's neck as the blond graciously accommodated the assault by turning his head to the side to expose more of the pale, smooth skin. Brian had just moved down to lick and bite one of his partner's nipples when he heard him say, "I wonder what today's special is down in the dining room? I'm getting _hungry_ now."

 

_Oh, Brother. Well, he wasn't the ONLY hungry one._ Brian growled, "I'm _getting hungry, too_ , Sunshine, and _YOU'RE_ the special," before he figured to hell with foreplay; Justin bucked off the bed and gasped as Brian decided to forgo the appetizers and move on to the main entrée farther south, his partner's thoughts about _another_ special completely forgotten while the brunet sampled his own kind of gourmet, high-protein treat for the next hour. 

 

* * *

 

_Berkley Lodge Dining Room – 1:00 p.m._

 

As they stood next to the hostess station waiting to be escorted to their table, Justin lightly bounced up and down on his feet; he had his eye (and his stomach) set on one of the lodge's favorites – buttermilk pan-fried chicken with homemade mashed potatoes and gravy, cole slaw and sweet cornbread muffins.

 

"Will you _puh-lease put your fucking feet in_ idle?" Brian muttered in the blond's ear as he felt his partner's nervous energy beside him.

 

Justin stuck his tongue out at him in reply. "I told you I was hungry an _hour_ ago. You got _your_ main entrée, now it's MY turn," he huffed defiantly, as he crossed his arms over his chest

 

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Just hold your horses, Justin. You'll know if our table's ready when the vibrator goes off. You of all people should be familiar with _those_ ," he smirked.

 

Justin snorted. "It's not that kind of vibrator," he retorted. He was about to go up to the hostess dais to check on their wait time when he saw a sight that made him come up short in his tracks. What in the world?

 

"What?" Brian asked in irritation as Justin let out a short gasp of surprise and grasped his partner's sleeve tightly. "You're about to cut off my circulation here, Sunshine."

 

"Look over there!" Justin exclaimed excitedly. "Do you see what _I_ see?"

 

Brian peered over one of the potted fir trees scattered throughout the large and rustic dining room. _Uh, Oh._ He immediately spied Michael and Ben – AND Emmett and his current flame, Calvin, sitting at a nearby table together. "Well….I'll be damned. I wonder what _they're_ doing here?" he asked innocently. Mikey and Ben, of course, weren't a surprise, but the _OTHER_ couple sure as hell were….just what was going on here? Why would Emmett and his current _beau_ be here, too? He silently hoped that Mikey would be smart enough not to tell Justin the real reason why he was here. Somehow he didn't think his partner would be too pleased to find out that Mikey had been paid to come here this week and make sure he was adequately fed behind Justin's back. And he definitely wouldn't be happy to know that Brian had been making good use of Mikey's hot tub on his balcony most mornings while Justin was still asleep. After all, how else would he have known which type of room to request last night? And to think he had gone to the trouble of making sure their suite was as far away from Mikey's as possible. Apparently, though, it wasn't quite far _enough_ away.

 

Justin was surprised to see Michael and Ben here with Emmett and Calvin. He knew, of course, that Em and Calvin would be here at the lodge; after all, he had paid for them to come here this past week in case they were needed. Once he had persuaded Brian to come, however, he began to feel guilty about the idea of playing tricks on his partner. Brian had had so much trouble adjusting to the "outdoor life" (i.e., no gourmet food, no satin sheets and no indoor plumbing facilities) that Justin just couldn't bring himself to inflict any more pain or play any practical jokes on him. The poor man (and his pride, not to mention his ass) had suffered enough this week that he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He was glad, now, that he hadn't. But he prayed that Emmett wouldn't give his original scheme away. He _was_ surprised, though, to see Ben and Michael with them. Had Emmett mentioned to them where he was going and asked them to join them? That seemed like the only logical explanation.

 

There was only one way to find out. They'd have to go over there and reveal they were here at the lodge, too. "What an unbelievable coincidence," Justin said convincingly. "It's a small world, isn't it?" he asked Brian somewhat nervously.

 

"Yes, it is," Brian replied just as slyly. "Are you sure you didn't mention to Emmett where we were going last week?"

 

Justin had a flash of inspiration. _Thank you, Brian_. "Yes….Yes, that must be it," he hastily agreed. "I must have mentioned the name of the lodge to Emmett last week when I told him we were going camping. Yeah, that's it. It must have sounded so good that he decided to check it out himself."

 

"Yeah, I guess so," Brian answered. That was entirely plausible. _Thank you, Justin_. "Emmett must have asked Ben and Mikey to join them."

 

"Should we go over and say hello?" Justin asked his partner hesitantly. "I'm sure they're thinking we're still down at the campsite and don't know we have a room here through tomorrow." He didn't want to arouse Brian's suspicions but he wasn't sure he wanted to encourage any socialization with their friends, either; he wasn't convinced Emmett wouldn't unintentionally blurt out something about the real reason why he wound up here in the first place.

 

Fortunately for his partner, Brian wasn't too keen on speaking with them, either – for the _same_ reason; except he was thinking about Michael instead. "Listen, Sunshine, if it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon not let them know we're here. Now that I've finally gotten you to come to your senses and stay in a _civilized_ setting, I'd like to spend what little time we have left by ourselves." _There – that sounded good….._

 

Justin was tremendously relieved, but he still couldn't help staring at Brian suspiciously. That had sounded almost… _romantic_ , which certainly wasn't like the Brian HE knew. "Brian…That almost sounded, uh, _sweet_. Except you make it seem like we have a terminal illness or something. You know they're bound to see us," he pointed out.

 

"Not if we request a table over there," Brian answered, pointing over to the opposite side of the room that was separated from the other area by vegetation and a partition. "There's enough greenery between the two sections, they won't even know we're here," he insisted.

 

Before Justin had a chance to consider his argument, the handheld gadget in his hand buzzed and vibrated, startling him a little. Brian smirked at him. "And I thought you were experienced with those things, Sunshine," he teased his partner, whose face reddened a little as the brunet gently tugged at his arm. "Come on – you said you were hungry," he pointed out. As Justin took one final, quick look at their friends animatedly laughing and smiling at their table, he finally followed Brian over to the hostess stand.

 

"Could we have a table over there?" Brian asked the hostess with his best, flirtatious smile. The poor woman was putty in the handsome man's hands as she nodded, smiled and led them over to the opposite side of the room to both men's immense relief. Unfortunately, they were led to a table that was directly opposite their friends on the other side; with the partition open at the top, it was quite easy to hear the sounds emanating from their quartet of friends.

 

Not knowing any plausible reason for requesting yet another move, the two men reluctantly took their seats amid the somewhat boisterous conversation taking place just on the other side of the wall.

 

As their assigned waitress took their drink orders and left them to peruse their menus, both men couldn't help overhearing the excited and animated conversation taking place among the four men.

 

"Oh, my God, Ben, you should have _seen_ them! I never saw Brian and Justin run so fast in their _life!_ That revenuer joke worked like a charm, didn't it, Em?"

 

The two partners sat shell-shocked, their mouths gaping open, as they listened intently to Em giggling. "I _told you_ the baked beans would work, didn't I? My cousins pulled that trick on me once when I was at summer camp with them and I ran out of my cabin faster than a greased pig, as my dear Aunt Lula would say. I would have sworn that my little old ass was about to get shot up with buckshot! Except when they pulled that prank on ME, at least I had my _clothes on!"_

 

The entire group exploded in laughter. "Well, Brian never has been hung up on _modesty_ ," Michael pointed out. "Just _vanity_ …..That's why I would have _loved_ to have seen his orange hair!"

 

"Yeah… It's a shame they didn't go canoeing _after_ we dyed his hair – can you imagine seeing Brian with orange and brown hair after the canoe had sunk and he had to swim for it? He would have had that shit running down both sides of his face…..!"

 

Ben laughed. "Yeah….except he might have been mistaken then for a Cleveland Browns fan instead of a Steelers fan!" Everyone laughed loudly as thoughts of a drenched and striped Brian Kinney floated through their heads.

 

Michael added, "I don't care _what_ you say. The best one of all was the fake bear sounds – you thought they ran fast after the _beans_ exploded – you should have seen them take off for the SUV when they thought a bear was attacking - there were THREE full moons _that night_!" That comment elicited an even louder and more boisterous reaction from the foursome, causing several nearby diners to turn and stare at the noisy group rather resentfully.

 

"Sshh," Ben admonished them, laughing more softly now. "Okay, okay, everybody….we'd better keep it down. How about a toast to our benefactors' _hospitality_?" The clinking of glasses could be heard as the four raised their mugs of beer in a toast to the generous couple who had so selflessly donated their own money to make sure they lived a life of luxury at their expense.

 

The objects of their pranks, however, didn't seem quite as amused by their antics as evidenced by their mirroring looks of anger and shock. Like a grizzly bear standing on his haunches, Brian immediately began to rise to his full 6', 1 ½ inches, intending to confront their tormentors. "Why those little fuckers," he growled. "Just wait until I get….."

 

Justin hurriedly stood and placed a steadying hand on the brunet's forearm to keep him there. "Sshh," Justin warned him. "Sit back down. I think there's a better way."

 

Brian's blood was boiling as he continued to stand there, seething. He couldn't believe that Michael, of all people – his _best friend_ , for fuck's sake – had been playing jokes on him all week while he was also playing the role of commiserating pal. AND living high off the hog, to boot, at Brian's expense! He continued to stand there for several seconds, itching to march over there and give all of them, especially Mikey, a huge piece of his mind; visions of dumping a big bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy over his long-time friend's head filtered through his head. _That would be a good start_.

 

"Brian!" He heard his partner whispering to him urgently. " _Listen to me!_ They don't know we're _here_! _We_ have the element of surprise now…Let's take advantage of it!" Justin was upset with Emmett as well – here he had decided not to play with Brian's head, but he had still basically wound up paying his friend to make Brian's week even more of a living hell than it had _already been_. And here Justin had been thinking that the unfortunate events of this week had just been due to bad luck – it turns out Lady Luck had had some _help_.

 

Brian began to consider what Justin had said – maybe he was right. While it would definitely give him a great deal of satisfaction to stomp over to their friends' table and scare the living shit out of all of them, perhaps there was a more _fulfilling_ way to still get their point across. After all, they were going to be there until at least day after tomorrow, since Mikey was staying on Brian's dime. Brian fumed at the thought of Michael, especially, taking advantage of Brian's generosity to make this past week a week from hell. _Beware of paybacks, Mikey_. Sighing, Brian turned to look at his partner's intense gaze before he finally sat back down. Turning to the blond, he asked, "What do you have in mind? It'd better be _fucking good_." He shook his head in disbelief. "I _still_ can't believe he would do this to me, and with my own fucking money," he growled, before he realized what he had said. He quickly looked over at Justin's face to see if he had noticed his slip; yep, he had. _Smart little fucker – he never could pull one over on him._

 

"What do you mean – _with your own money?"_ the blond asked, his voice full of suspicion. Justin raised one eyebrow, eyes intently staring at his lover. He was going to stare at him until the brunet answered his question. He watched as his partner squirmed uncharacteristically; now Justin was _really_ getting concerned. "Brian, just what did you _do?_ "

 

"Shouldn't we get out of here before we're detected?" he asked his lover hopefully. _Made perfect sense to him_.

 

"No," Justin told him flatly, eyes flashing with determination. "We're going to stay right here until you tell me what you meant by that. Besides, I'm not moving one inch until we get _fed_."

 

"Well?" Justin repeated. _The man has the memory of a fucking elephant._ Brian rolled his eyes – _NOW we're getting to the important part – FOOD._ "We'll get carryout containers," he told his partner reasonably; the blond, however, simply folded his arms across his chest and sat there, staring at him unblinking. Brian had the distinct feeling the man would wait there _forever_ (that is, as long as he was fed eventually) or until he told him what was going on, whichever came first. _Damn twat_. He sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay…..I'll tell you. It's really not that big of a fucking deal, anyway."

 

Justin raised his eyebrows, blue eyes wide and round. "I'm waiting."

 

Before the brunet could answer, however, their waitress approached their table to take their orders: Justin stuck to his original idea of the fried chicken special, while Brian opted for grilled salmon with mixed vegetables. For now there was no mention of any carryout containers, to Brian's disappointment; he had hoped they could continue this conversation privately up in their suite.

 

"Geez, Sunshine, like I said, it was _no big deal_. I…simply paid for Mikey and Ben to come up to the lodge for the week in case I needed some help."

 

" _Help?"_ Justin sat and watched Brian continue to squirm. "What KIND of help?" _This should be interesting._

 

Brian was about to confess just what he meant as the table containing their friends erupted in another raucous round of laughter – at _their_ expense, no doubt; he could hear someone, he thought it was Emmett, saying something about moonshine and buckshot. _This was going from bad to WORSE._ Resigning himself to admitting his little ploy in order to move on to the more important matter of _payback_ , he smirked a little before finally uttering, "You know I _detest_ any form of camping, as you previously so eloquently pointed out when I first decided to participate in the Liberty Ride. Well, despite the added incentive of having your adorable little ass and other attractive features all to myself this week, I still thought I might need a little bit more in the way of creature comforts. So all I did was pay for Michael and Ben to rent a room here at the lodge with a Jacuzzi like the one we have upstairs so I could partake of an occasional, relaxing _sabbatical_ while you were asleep. And Mikey might have brought me some food from time to time."

 

"Aha!" Justin began, his voice rising before Brian gave him a quick, cautionary look to quiet down lest they be discovered. Justin continued, this time, however, in a lower tone of voice. "I _KNEW_ it! All those times I was in that cold lake washing off and shampooing my hair and you were having a grand old time in Michael's heated Jacuzzi! I can't fucking _believe_ you, Brian! And he was passing _food_ on to you, too? What – you couldn't go one whole week without an apple or turkey sandwich?" His lips turned upward into a pout, which Brian in reality found adorable, although he certainly wasn't going to admit that to Justin at the moment.

 

"Actually, it was more like salami on whole wheat and an occasional cherry turnover," he admitted, receiving a shocked and irritated look from his partner. "And for your information, it wasn't that I couldn't _live without it_ – truth is, I couldn't live _with_ the Spam and all the other gourmet concoctions you tried to foist on me!"

 

Justin snorted softly. "Heaven forbid if you should try something _different_ ," he retorted. "Well, it seems to me you got yourself into this mess on your _own_ …..Maybe I SHOULD just let you go over there and have it out with them….you got yourself into this situation, you should just get yourself _out_ of it! I least I had enough sense not to get myself into the same kind of mess with Emmett!" _Oops._

 

Brian's eyes narrowed and they became almost black like coal. "The _same kind of mess, Sunshine?_ Would you care to explain that little statement?" Brian thought he saw a distinct look of guilt cross over the blond's face as he looked away briefly. _Et tu, Sunshine?_

 

"Well….I'm not _too_ surprised that Emmett and Calvin are up here.," his partner admitted. "I…..sort of invited them to come up here for the week while we were camping." He bit his lip a little apprehensively, not sure if Mt. Kinney was about to erupt or not. After all, it wasn't as if HE had told Emmett to do any of the things he had wound up doing. In fact, he had decided NOT to have Emmett do anything at ALL. He had actually been enjoying the time he had been spending with Brian, sore ass, poor pioneer and all. It had been… _fun_.

 

" _Invited them? To do WHAT?"_ Now it was _Brian's turn_ to look at his partner suspiciously.

 

But Justin simply stuck his chin out defiantly. "They didn't _DO_ anything," he insisted to his lover; Brian quietly peered at him, as if he were boring a hole through him, until Justin finally spoke up. "Okay, okay…..I _was_ going to get him to play some….. _tricks_ …..on you, since you were making such a big stink about camping. But they were just going to be innocent little pranks, that's all, like challenging you to a fishing contest and bringing in humongous sized fishes as opposed to the tadpoles you would catch, or shooting targets with you and always hitting the bulls eye because Emmett was standing there placing the arrow in the right place when you weren't looking, but I never DID do anything because you were having enough problems as it was….…Brian! Are you even _listening to me?_ " Justin whispered in aggravation.

 

The more Justin rambled on and on, the more Brian thought of how ridiculous the whole situation sounded. If all of these mishaps had happened to someone _else_ , it would have been pretty damn funny. He shook his head in disbelief, finally looking at Justin as he heard his partner utter a soft huff at his apparent lack of concentration. " _Yes_ , Justin, I'm listening. I was just thinking how completely ludicrous it sounded. I'm just glad you decided I had been punished enough and didn't go through with it. That doesn't excuse our merry little pranksters over there, however. They've fucked with the wrong guy – paybacks are hell, especially when they involve _me_. So do tell, Sunshine – what do you have churning around in that pretty little blond head?"

 

Justin smiled. He was about to discuss just that when their food showed up. As the waitress placed two steaming and delicious-smelling plates of food in front of them, Justin murmured appreciatively at the aroma. "Hmmm," he practically purred as he got a good whiff of the fried chicken and bit into the crunchy outer shell of a leg. "Oh, my God! This is _wonderful!"_ he declared in appreciation, a large smile on his face, partly from the food and partly from the fact that Brian apparently wasn't angry with him; Mt. Kinney was thankfully going to remain dormant at least for one more day….that is, until he spews his retaliation on four unknowing men currently having a grand old time on the other side of the room's partition.

 

Brian took a bite of his grilled, wood-fired salmon and had to agree; after a week of torment and Justin trying to poison him with all sorts of odd objects he was trying to _pass off_ as food, this was downright _heavenly_. And at least they would have a thick, soft mattress in their room tonight to fuck and sleep in. That still didn't excuse what Mikey and Emmett had done to them this past week, however. As he savored the taste of the salmon in his mouth, he glanced over at his partner, who had a look of downright rapture on his face. Brian couldn't help smiling at his lover's reaction to his food; s _ome things never change_.

 

"Justin," he pressed his partner. "Tell me more about what you have in mind. It's time to teach those little shits a lesson about messin' with ME," he declared in a decidedly Southern accent. He waggled his eyebrows at his lover, who laughed softly.

 

"Okay, Paw, here's what I have in mind…."


	12. The Sweet Taste of Revenge

_Mid-Evening – Immediately After Dinner_

 

"I can't fucking _believe_ you brought these _Field & Stream_ outfits with you," Brian muttered as he looked over at his partner. "Although, that shirt _does_ go remarkably well with your tacky fishing hat," he cracked. He scratched his back furiously in an unsuccessful attempt to reach a spot where his body was itching like hell from the heavy flannel top he was wearing; he peered down at Justin, who actually seemed comfortable in his own black and red, checked flannel shirt and his ever-present, floppy fishing hat with the colorful lures still ringing the brim.

 

Justin scrunched up his face as he scrutinized his partner; he personally thought Brian looked _adorable_ – in an outdoorsy, huntsman, Elmer Fudd sort of way – dressed in his green and navy plaid flannel shirt, although the hunting cap with the flaps on either side of his face sort of detracted from his angular, chiseled features. It was necessary, however, to mask their normal appearance enough that if Michael and Emmett chose to turn around and peer at who was following them, hopefully they wouldn't look closely enough to figure out who it was.

 

Justin reached up to become Brian's personal back scratcher as he raked his fingernails over the spot where Brian couldn't reach; he heard his partner utter a satisfied "ah" as he evidently hit the right area between his shoulder blades. "You know it was necessary to disguise us," he reminded the brunet.

 

"Well, you did that, Sunshine, because they would never in a million fucking years think I'd be wearing _this_ darling ensemble." He couldn't believe he had let his partner talk him into this - after all, he had a reputation to maintain. And it was definitely NOT going to be upheld in _this_ type of apparel.

 

Justin ceased scratching his partner's back to Brian's disappointment and gave him a quick slap on the back instead. "Just be glad they were still eating while we ran up to our rooms to change our clothes." He squeezed Brian's upper arm. "Come on," he urged him softly. "They'll get away from us if we're not careful."

 

"Yes, sir, _Sherlock Holmes_ ," he retorted smartly, as he grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him along, remaining a respectable distance from the other four men but close enough to keep an eye on them.

 

* * *

 

_Berkley Falls Lodge Parking Lot – 1:00 a.m._

 

"Brian… _Hurry up!_ " Justin's whisper was full of urgency as he glanced around the grounds warily. "You told me you knew how to _do_ this," he scolded his partner as he added mockingly, " _No problem, Sunshine….I can do it in my sleep, Sunshine. Sixty seconds and we're out of here, Sunshine."_

 

Brian glared at him. He had been tinkering with the circuitry now for almost fifteen minutes and his body, lying half in and half out, was beginning to cramp up and stiffen. "Will you kindly shut the fuck up so I can _concentrate_? It's hard to move around in this tight a space. I managed to get the _door_ open, didn't I?" he asked defensively.

 

"Anyone can use a wire clothes hanger," he retorted, turning around briefly to face his partner – or rather his partner's rather attractive ass. "Besides, you never had any problem maneuvering in a _tight space before_ ," he added innocently.

 

Brian snorted. "That's different," he pointed out, glancing back at the blond as he briefly shone his flashlight on his partner's body. Justin was standing there, hands on hips, with an evil gleam in his eyes. He struggled for the right word. "You're….. _pliable_ ,"he finally muttered, before he turned back around to his task.

 

Justin frowned. "Uh, thanks….I think." He gasped suddenly as he heard a slight noise a short distance away. "Shh!" he whispered in alarm. "I think someone's coming," he cautioned, as he rushed over and hastily pushed Brian inside to crawl in after him, hurriedly closing the door.

 

"Ow! _Justin_! You made me hit my fucking _head_!" Brian snarled, reaching up to rub the top of his brunet hair where it had hit the hard plastic.

 

"Quiet!" Justin admonished him. "Get _down!"_ he berated him, pushing on Brian's arm and pulling him down with him onto the floor. "Do you want someone to _see us?"_

 

"What I want is for someone to bring me some _duct tape!_ " he growled as Justin huffed in annoyance. Brian muttered, "You don't need to _speak_ to do your job," he explained as Justin glared at him. He knew he was wasting his time, however. No one would be out here at 1:00 in the morning with a roll of duct tape and Justin wouldn't let him use it on HIM anyway.

 

"Ha, ha," Justin chided him. As he looked over at his blond accomplice, though, Brian found it difficult to remain perturbed at him while he wearing his saucy, little red artist's beret. _The little fucker picked the wrong CAREER – he should have been a HAT salesman. I've even got the right ad campaign for him: The best head you've ever had. Although I doubt if anyone would be looking at his HEAD,_ he thought _._ He WAS thankful, though, that they had been able to change out of those itchy flannel fiascos into more _respectable_ clothes.

 

After several seconds, both men slowly poked their mutual heads up just high enough so they could peer out the window. "Do you see anything?" Justin whispered to his partner. Brian blew a large swatch of Justin's hair out of his mouth before replying. "No, you twat. It was probably another fake grizzly bear."

 

Justin glowered at him. "Aren't YOU the king of wit?" _Nit-wit,_ he thought sarcastically. "Well, get on with it, then. We don't have all day…or should I say _night_."

 

Brian rolled his eyes. "You're a bossy little bottom, aren't you?" he cracked, casting a glance over at his partner.

 

"Not _always._ "

 

Brian snorted. "What – the bossy or the bottom part?" Justin contorted his face in a silent answer of _YOU WOULD KNOW_ but didn't acknowledge the brunet's impertinent question with a verbal response.

 

Brian offered a quick, mock salute before growling, "Well, then, _yes_ , _Sir_. Now if you'll just MOVE your _bossy not-quite-so-little bottom_ , I can hopefully turn around in this _other tight spot_ and finish what I started."

 

Thinking he had heard a variation of that statement before in their bedroom but letting it slide for the time being, Justin elected instead to smile prettily and return Brian's salute with a one-finger variation of his _own_ before he softly opened up the side door and cautiously stepped out onto the pavement, quietly closing the door behind him and glancing around before walking over to the other side to wait for his partner to finish his assignment. Thankfully, the only sounds being heard now were crickets, tree frogs, and an occasional screech owl, which succeeded in making Justin jump a little each time he heard it. To him, it sounded horrifyingly like a rabbit being skinned alive, but at least there were no human sounds being detected. Hopefully the dark, cloudy night would give them enough cover to accomplish what they needed to do. _Brian's breaking and entering skills must be rusty_ , he mused, as he impatiently waited for his partner to finish his undercover task.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Brian finally had the car hot-wired properly; he sat in the driver's seat with a triumphant grin as he turned the motor over and it came to unexpected life, purring reassuringly. He turned to Justin and remarked, "I've still got _it_ ," he crowed smugly.

 

Justin smirked, thinking that Brian made an extremely sexy cat burglar as he sat there, long legs stretched out and wearing his black wife beater shirt and black jeans; as he walked around to open the passenger door and get in, he scolded his partner teasingly, "Well, _get_ _IT_ in gear and get the car moved around back before someone _sees_ us." They shared a mutual look of accomplishment before Brian put the sedan into drive and they slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

 

* * *

 

_A Few Minutes Later_

 

"Shine the flashlight over _here_ , Brian…and quit _fidgeting_ , for God's sake!" Justin growled as he noticed his partner's distracted hold on their only source of lighting. They had moved the vehicle to a dark, secluded corner of the parking lot where they could hopefully work unnoticed for whatever time Justin would need to complete his goal.

 

"Well, _excuuuse_ me if I happen to nod off in the middle of your little _assignment_ ," he retorted, his mouth opening up as a yawn as wide as the Continental Divide came out. "I suppose it wouldn't do any good to remind you that we're letting a perfectly good, fuckingly fantastic, king-size feather bed go to waste."

 

"You agreed to help me with this, remember?" Justin retorted. "I can't do this by myself," he pointed out. He glanced around warily. "I hope they don't have a security patrol around here. If someone sees us loitering around, they're might think we're up to no good."

 

Brian huffed as he tried to keep the flashlight in his hand still so he could shine it on Justin's work. "You think?" he retorted. "Now why ever would they think _that_ , Sunshine?" he quipped. "Besides, _Bad_ is my fucking middle name," he announced smugly.

 

"Well, if you don't keep quiet, _busted_ is going to be your _middle_ name," Justin warned him softly; he risked a quick glance over at his partner, who was kneeling down next to him, the flashlight satisfactorily focused on Justin's work.

 

"Just get back to your masterpiece, DaVinci," the brunet reminded him. "I'll watch for the big bad park rangers." He surprised Justin by adding, "Just don't hurry _too_ much…..I want this one done _right_ ," he explained, getting a nod and an understanding grin of agreement from his partner in return. "Oh, and make sure you don't forget the hood AND the roof, too – No sense in wasting one fucking _inch_ of this _canvas_ , right?"

 

* * *

 

_A Few Hours Later_

 

Justin stood up, his back stiff from stooping and sitting on the hard ground for so long. Wiping his nose with his sleeve while holding his _weapon of choice_ in his right hand – a large, bristle paint brush – he stretched himself backward to try and loosen his lumbar muscles. He jumped a little as he felt a pair of strong hands start kneading his tired, stiff shoulders from behind. "You sure are tight," Brian murmured, his voice teasing. The husky tone of his voice caused Justin's heart to race. _God, this man can get horny in the oddest places and at the oddest times – not that I'm complaining, mind you._

 

"You always say that," Justin quipped, giggling at Brian's smirk. Brian reached his arms around now to wrap them securely against Justin's waist as he whispered, "You _outdid yourself_ this time, Sunshine." He felt Justin smile against his cheek at the compliment as he added, "It's a fucking _masterpiece_." He gently twisted his partner's face around with his hand as their lips met for a passionate kiss fueled by their mutual bond of conspiracy. His excitement over possibly getting caught while they were carrying out their little scheme had only fueled his desire for the soft, slender body he currently held steadfastly in his arms and made his cock harden even more.

 

"It is, isn't it?" Justin murmured to his partner breathlessly; Brian's kisses always had the same toe-tingling effect on him, even after all this time. "I think it's very… _colorful._ Kind of like a moving version of _National Geographic_ ," he offered mischievously, his eyes twinkling as he let out a soft chuckle of accomplishment.

 

Brian nuzzled his cheek against Justin's face as he gave his partner a firm squeeze around his slender chest. "I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like this on cable, though," he pointed out observantly as he flicked his flashlight quickly over the entire product Justin had created. "It sure brings back some memories, though," he added, feeling a slight twinge of pain in his ass at the thought of what that particular part of his anatomy had endured this past week. "Some _not so good_ memories." For a man who didn't have much padding back in that department, he had felt every fucking bump and mishap doubly so during their wilderness adventure together. "But then again…..some were _really, really good_ ," he whispered truthfully, the drawling, husky tone of his voice making his partner's breath hitch. _Sentimental twat._ He softly spoke in Justin's ear, his warm breath tickling the pale lobe. "Speaking of which, what do you say we return your masterpiece back to the scene of the crime and spend the next few hours back in our king-sized bed and heated Jacuzzi? If you're a _really good boy_ , Sunshine, I'll even ring room service for some Spam and beans."

 

"Promises, promises," Justin laughed. "Romantic as always. Stop it, Paw, you'll make me _swoon."_ He melodramatically wiped a slender hand across his brow just before he heard Brian growl and felt his partner's teeth nip his earlobe briefly as he shivered in response. "I'm going to make you do more than _swoon_ , Sunshine – that's a promise," he drawled sexily. He couldn't resist one more kiss on his partner's soft cheek. "Now let's get this buggy back where it belongs," he purred. "All this excitement's making me hard, and I'm gonna have my _way_ with you, Maw," he warned the blond, poking him quickly in his waist where he knew Justin was the most ticklish.

 

Justin giggled. "Okay, Frank Sinatra – I'll let you have it _your way_. But let's see if you can start it up again first," he reminded his partner as he looked over at the car, pulling gently away from the brunet to pick up his supplies from the asphalt and place them in the back seat of the sedan.

 

"Sunshine, I can always _start it up_ ," he teased his partner, who rolled his eyes in response. He noticed Justin moving closer to him from behind. Eyes flaring in a mock threat, he warned him, "You stay away from my backside, Maw….You know I'm particularly _touchy_ back there," he reminded him.

 

It was Justin's turn now to whisper in the brunet's ear as he leaned over to murmur, "Well, I'm particularly _horny_ up HERE, so you'd better get this jalopy – and your _ass_ – in gear….NOW. I'm going to take you back to our Jacuzzi and ride you while you fuck me senseless – and I'll even wear my beret."

 

Brian gasped sarcastically. "Your beret? I'm honored. Wow, what an incentive! Why didn't you _SAY_ so, Sunshine?" He suddenly grabbed Justin's hand and dragged him over to the car door. "Give me ten seconds, and then your ass is ALL MINE, Maw," he cracked, smacking his partner on HIS ass now as Justin laughed in delight. And faster than you could say _two shakes of a lamb's tail_ , the brunet had the vehicle's engine roaring back to life.

 

* * *

 

_A few hours later_

 

"Brian?" Justin turned on his side to face his partner. They had returned to their room, almost giddy from riding high on their clandestine success; of course, with Brian's unequivocal, enthusiastic endorsement, Justin then proceeded to spend the next hour or so _riding high_ on something – or _someone else_ in the heated Jacuzzi. They had then proceeded on to the large, soft feather bed where Justin had done a little more ridin' and ropin' for his cowboy before the two had fallen into what Brian had hoped was a sound sleep. Unfortunately, one part of that equation had apparently not heard that instruction because he was currently calling out his name.

 

Brian sighed in exasperation and rolled over on his side to face his partner – or should he say _pardner_. God, he needed to get back to civilization and fast. "Yes, Sunshine?" His eyes slowly fluttered open to see the soft blue ones staring back at him intently.

 

"It's getting light out," the blond stated, his eyebrows lifting as he waited for a sign of comprehension. Brian looked at him blankly for a few seconds, wondering if his partner had suddenly metamorphosed into a weatherman before Justin's words sank in and he bolted upright. "Fuck! It's getting _light out_! Get up! Fuck!" He quickly pulled the covers away from them and looked around hastily for his jeans, which he had thrown down haphazardly as soon as they had returned to their room a few hours ago. After all, he certainly didn't have any need for them once they got back _here_ for what HE had had in mind with his _little woman_.

 

Justin rolled his eyes and shook his head. _His ass isn't the ONLY thing that was apparently affected this week_ , he decided. He smirked and rose from their bed, hurrying to grab his pair of pants thrown over a nearby chair; he followed closely behind Brian as his partner walked over and slid their glass balcony doors open.

 

The sun was quickly beginning to rise just behind the thick grove of pine trees surrounding the lodge's parking lot as they quietly and cautiously crept toward the edge of their balcony; fortunately, the large, 6-person Jacuzzi they had taken so much advantage of since checking in yesterday also helped to hide them from any prying eyes of other park patrons, including their own friends.

 

Brian kneeled down and peeked cautiously around the edge of the hot tub's side. "Do you see anything?" Justin whispered to him curiously, his breath tickling his partner's neck as he mimicked the brunet's stance. "Nothing yet, Starsky," Brian reported, as Justin steadied himself by placing a slender hand on his partner's shoulder from behind. "What makes you even think they'd be up this early anyway?" Brian growled. The only reason why he had let Justin talk him into getting up at the crack of dawn was because the best part of this whole endeavor was going to be their friends' response to their overnight _gift_. That and the stunned reaction of everyone else who happened to see it, also. _How nice that the place just happened to be packed this weekend_ , Brian smirked to himself. "Michael said Ben always gets up early, remember?" Justin pointed out. "Besides, what choice have we got if we want to see their reactions?"

 

Brian chuckled softly. "Yeah, something tells me West Virginians haven't seen THIS type of wild life before. Gives a whole new meaning to _moonshine_ ," he added, smiling back at his co-conspirator who giggled in response and nodded.

 

From their top floor vantage point, Justin and Brian luckily had an excellent view of the parking lot on the other side of the complex; it was serendipitous that their friends had wound up on the opposite wing of the lodge in perfect view of their own suite. It was absolutely perfect, too, for seeing all of their faces the moment they emerged from their first-floor rooms. It hadn't been difficult at all last night to secretly shadow their smug, unaware quartet of friends back to their two suites; Emmett and Michael had been so busy chortling away smugly about how they had pulled the wool over Justin and Brian's eyes that they had no idea their every move was being watched. And they were totally oblivious to the prying eyes that had made a mental note of their room locations on the bottom floor of the lodge.

 

Brian had to admit – Justin had done a fantastic job. In the early morning sunlight, the orange glow of the base paint shining from Michael's sedan cast an almost golden sheen from the car's hood and roof. And the _rest_ of the car. Simply genius. _MY little genius,_ he thought affectionately, as he turned to ruffle the blond artist's soft hair and smiled. "Bravo, Sunshine," he whispered as Justin beamed at the compliment. "It puts Maaco© to shame," he editorialized solemnly as Justin giggled.

 

* * *

 

Ben slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the rustic ceiling of their suite. The past week had been glorious – he had thoroughly enjoyed their well-appointed accommodations in the park lodge, especially the hot tub and the adjacent tennis courts. He and Michael had been able to spend hours hiking, eating at the facility's comfortable restaurant, swimming, and just enjoying each other's company, at least when he wasn't taking food secretly to his best friend or letting Brian in to use their Jacuzzi. Fortunately, his husband's best friend had been kept busy most of the time by his partner, so all in all it had still been well worth the occasional interruption by the brunet.

 

He stretched luxuriously in bed before he finally turned the covers back slowly and quietly stood up, his hands placed at the small of his back as his body slowly came alive completely. He noticed Michael still snoring softly in the bed while he walked over to their small kitchenette to start some coffee.

 

A few minutes later, after a quick shower, he re-entered their spacious kitchen/bedroom area and helped himself to a mug of coffee. As much as he enjoyed his husband's company, he secretly relished this short period of time early in the morning before Michael awoke as a guilty pleasure for himself to drink his coffee and enjoy reading the morning paper, which he had arranged to have delivered to their door each morning.

 

He eagerly walked over now to the door and softly turned the knob to avoid disturbing his mate. As he opened the door and bent down to retrieve the paper, he noticed something garish-looking gleaming out of the corner of his eye. Picking up the paper, he slowly began to rise to a standing position before he got a better look at the object that had captured his peripheral vision and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. He very carefully began to stand up, the paper in his hand long forgotten by the sight that greeted him. His eyes grew huge as he took a more careful glance at everything displayed on their sedan and grimaced. _This is NOT good – not good at ALL._

 

"Uh…..Michael?" he squeaked. He knew his husband was still asleep, though, and he was normally a pretty sound sleeper. Ben closed his eyes briefly and squeezed them shut before opening them again, hoping that perhaps he was either still asleep somehow or he was imagining what he was seeing, but the car was still there in all its _glory_. _Fuck._

 

"Michael?" he called again, this time more loudly. When he still didn't get a response, he spoke even more commandingly this time, "MICHAEL! Wake UP!"

 

"Huh?" Michael mumbled, as he was suddenly roused from a rather sound sleep. "Ben?" he asked sleepily as he peered over through tousled, dark brown hair to look for his mate on the other side of their bed, but he wasn't there.

 

"Over here," Ben answered. "Better get over here and take a look….. _NOW,_ " he demanded. The tone of his husband's voice left no choice but to follow his request.

 

Michael wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up; Ben was standing in the doorway of their suite, looking out over the parking lot. He hadn't even turned to look at him when he had called out to him.

 

"What _is_ it?" Michael asked him curiously. He wondered what was so exciting that Ben couldn't take his eyes off it. "Is it a bear?"

 

"Oh, it's _bare_ all right," Ben muttered. "It actually defies description. Better come take a look." He finally turned to look at his husband with a look of dread on his handsome face.

 

* * *

 

"Look!" Brian whispered excitedly. "There's one of our supporting actors now!" He pointed over to Ben and Michael's room as the professor emerged from their suite, wearing a robe with a coffee mug in his hand.

 

Justin grinned at him as they noticed Ben's look of utter shock at their finished product. "Yeah, I think it won't be long now until one of the _leading actors_ makes their appearance, if Ben's look is any indication."

 

As they continued to watch, they noticed Ben finally saying something before he walked over to Emmett's suite located next to theirs and knocked firmly on his door. "Oh, I think I see _Leading Actor #2_ coming up _shortly_ ," Brian cracked. "Really, Sunshine, you should have made his dick just a little bit bigger than _that._ I happen to recall from that it was at least a little bigger than _a teenie-weenie_."

 

Justin huffed. "I normally like Emmett. But that's what he gets for playing along with Michael's crazy scheme. You shouldn't play games with an _artiste_ ," he snickered as Brian grinned broadly, his eyes shining with mirth as he rubbed his hands in anticipation. _This was going to be good_.

 

* * *

 

The sound of someone pounding on their door startled Cal and Emmett from their sleep; both men had just gotten to bed a few hours ago after enjoying their mid-evening meal at the lodge's restaurant and then relaxing in their hot tub until well after midnight. They had even placed a _Do Not Disturb_ on their door so they could sleep in. They were understandably aggravated, therefore, when someone had the nerve to wake them up so early and in such an abrupt manner. "What the fuck?" Emmett snarled, as he sat up in bed; his pulse was racing from being awakened so violently from such a delicious dream he had been having about being a party planner for the Tony Awards. He was just getting to the after-dinner party when the knock had interrupted his wonderful vision and he was _not_ happy at all.

 

Cal looked over at him and shrugged his shoulders as Emmett angrily snatched the duvet cover off his body and sprung from their bed, prepared to give their early-morning intruder a giant piece of his mind. He was surprised, however, to see Ben standing there as he grabbed the doorknob and furiously threw open the door. His initial fury was immediately replaced by the thought that something might have happened to his friend. "Ben?" he asked concerned. "Is something wrong? Is Michael okay?"

 

"I guess that depends on your viewpoint," Ben answered mysteriously. He noticed with supreme irony that in his haste to answer the door, Emmett hadn't donned any clothes. "Better grab some pants and get out here. There's something you need to see. _Hurry_ ," he pressed him. "The sooner you and Michael see it, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."

 

Emmett frowned – what the fuck was going on? He rushed over to a nearby chair to retrieve the spandex pants he had worn last night at dinner and threw them on before racing to the open door, his friend Cal watching him from their bed, puzzled.

 

* * *

 

Justin and Brian crouched behind their hiding place, raptly watching the melodrama taking place directly across from them. They watched as Ben scurried from their suite door over to Emmett's and knocked furiously on it, and they witnessed their friend shortly answering the door half-asleep and totally unclothed.

 

"Well, at least he's in his _natural state_ ," Brian cracked as Justin giggled. "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. In fact, I think I hear the other leading actor about to make his debut appearance." Sure enough, a few seconds later, Mikey appeared at the suite's doorway in stunned disbelief, his mouth hanging open wider than the Monongahela River. "He's definitely got that _troubled_ look, don't' you think, Sunshine?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Justin chuckled. "Definitely. Although I would call it more of an _I am SO fucked_ look, though. It's hard to _bare your soul_ to the world."

 

Brian smiled, his lips curling under in amusement. "He's definitely baring _something_ , all right."

 

* * *

 

"Oh, MY GOD!" Michael shouted, totally mortified. "Oh, MY GOD!" His hands flew up to his mouth in profound shock as he stood there frozen and looked at his and Ben's sedan. Their mode of transportation that had been so conservatively painted a stylish shade of dark green before was now a vivid orange, exactly matching the previous color of Brian's hair. But that wasn't the most notable feature of their sedan.

 

The entire car had been meticulously painted with numerous scenes depicting Michael and Emmett in their full glory – some drawings were frontal shots while others detailed _moon_ shots of their not-so-tight asses. On the driver's side door there was a _rear_ shot of the two of them running in fright out of their tent as a large, menacing black bear loomed over them; another detailed drawing on the rear driver's side door showed them swimming on their backs, their rather unimpressive cocks bobbing in the water as they swam away from their sinking canoe.

 

As Michael timidly walked out to the car with great trepidation to get a closer inspection, he saw Emmett rush out of his room next door. "Oh…Oh…..Oh, for the love of…Why, I _never_." He stood near Michael's car with his hands on his hips, soaking in all the minute details of Justin's handiwork. He huffed as he saw the drawing on the passenger-side door of him and Michael frantically scurrying from their campsite as a rain of baked bean pellets flew in every direction. "Well! Anyone who saw my work on the web would know that this is a bold-faced _insult_."

 

"Is that all you can _SAY_?" Michael cried out, incredulous. "Our naked bodies are displayed in a public parking lot for all the world to see and you're worried about _accuracy_?"

 

"Well, my Aunt Lula always said if you're going to do something, do it _right_ ," he lectured his friend, his nose in the air. "I would have expected better of Justin."

 

Michael tensed as he heard a soft chuckle sound behind him. He turned to his husband and glared at him as he observed Ben place a hand over his mouth. "You think this is _funny?_ " he cried in disbelief. He glanced back and cringed at the last montage painted on the rear door of the driver's side showing him and Emmett wearing identical orange Afro-style hairdos while they sat in hairdryer chairs at a salon; the gaudy, outrageous hairstyles were actually the _only_ accessory they were wearing.

 

"Well, to be honest… _yeah,"_ Ben answered him candidly. "You have to admit it was pretty damn creative. And Emmett warned you what might happen if Brian and Justin found out, didn't he? Well, guess what, Michael?" he asked his husband in a stage whisper. "I think they found out."

 

"No shit," Michael retorted as he shook his head in disbelief at the vivid, detailed hand-painted images so carefully and meticulously drawn all over their only mode of transportation. "I don't believe this," he kept muttering. To his complete embarrassment, also, he was beginning to notice that several lodge guests had heard the commotion taking place and had emerged from their rooms nearby; they were all either openly gawking or laughing at the sight of Justin's latest artwork. Michael's face turned a deep pink as he asked Emmett, "You don't suppose they have a body shop around here somewhere that paints cars, do you? I am NOT driving this vehicle back to Pittsburgh like this – we'll be laughed out of there faster than you can say…..well, _whatever the hell_ they say around here." He shook his head and let out an angry huff of breath. "This is worse than when those kids painted _faggot_ all over the Jeep….. _much worse_. I feel so...violated," he muttered. He looked around to see if he could see any sign of their perpetrators before he shouted loudly, "And just for the record…my dick is NOT the size of a cocktail wiener!" Turning around, he stomped back to his and Ben's suite and slammed the door behind him.

 

Ben and Emmett looked at each other as a large crowd had now congregated nearby and were starting to walk over to examine the almost psychedelic-looking vehicle. "I think that's my curtain call," Emmett quickly decided, looking around a little self-consciously before he, too, turned and walked quickly back to his room, Cal following close behind him. Ben stood there a few seconds longer, examining the intricate work of Justin's revenge, before he smiled, gave a thumbs up sign to no one in particular, whispered "Touché, Justin," and turned to join his husband, who was no doubt looking up paint shops on the internet in their suite. His and Michael's "glorious vacation" had abruptly come to an unexpected and notorious end.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Brian and Justin saw the four men return to their respective rooms, they burst out laughing and gave each other a high-five. "Oh, that was so fucking good," Brian announced gleefully. "It almost made up for what they put us through. Oh, my God….that look on Michael's face was the _best_." He smiled affectionately over at the blond. "It's SO great to have an artist in the family."

 

Justin grinned back at him. "My _pleasure,_ Mr. Kinney."

 

Brian returned his grin with a lustful leer of his own. "No, it's NOT, Sunshine. It's _MINE_. Why don't I show you?" he offered. Justin let out a surprised shriek of delight as his partner quickly scooped him up by the legs and dropped him into the hot tub to do just that.


	13. Vindication at Last

As soon as Brian and Justin saw the four men return to their respective rooms, they burst out laughing and gave each other a high-five. "Oh, that was so fucking _good_ ," Brian announced gleefully. "It almost made up for what they put us through. Shit….that look on Mikey's face was the _best!_ " He unexpectedly swept Justin up into a fierce, exuberant embrace, fueled by their successful subterfuge – not to mention a generous dose of some good old-fashioned morning hard-on lust. Justin shrieked in surprise as Brian hoisted his partner up by the legs and fireman carried him through the balcony doors and back into their suite; he gave his partner's ass a firm slap just before dropping him unceremoniously onto their over-sized feather bed and deftly removing both Justin's clothing as well as his own in record time; it was definitely times like this when the older man actually appreciated Justin's odd fondness for those damn sweat pants – at least it made for hasty removal when needed for more _important_ matters.

 

As Justin lay sprawled out now among the richly-appointed, burgundy sheets, Brian sprawled on top of _him_ to bestow a sound kiss on the eagerly-awaiting lips. As they finally came up for air, he took a few seconds to reach over for Justin's painter's beret perched on the nightstand; placing it jauntily at an angle on the other man's head, he smiled. "I'm sure glad _your_ dick isn't the size of a cocktail weenie, Sunshine" he smirked in that low tone of voice that always made Justin's heart do flip flops and make his _own_ "definitely not-so-teenie-weenie" immediately begin to rise to attention. To emphasis his point Brian rubbed his own substantial cock against the other man's as he heard a rewarding groan of appreciation in return. "All that stimulating _undercover_ work this morning – outside in the parking lot and here in our room – has made me horny as hell," he divulged as the quickly darkening, hazel eyes bored into the blond's.

 

Peering down at the disheveled artist, who was lying almost spread-eagled on their bed, his lips still red from their kiss, and his eyes sparkling with delight and love, Brian grinned. His lips curled under mischievously as he whispered in his partner's ear, "How about I get in a little _milking_ before breakfast?"

 

Justin snorted as Brian pulled back a little, but the smile was still readily evident on his face. "Are you calling me a _heifer_ , Mr. Kinney?" He tried half-heartedly to wriggle his hands out from the other man's stronger grasp of them above his head before he soon gave up; truth be told, he really wasn't trying too _hard_ anyway; the intense, almost predatory look he was getting from his partner was definitely producing some excess _cream_ that needed to be milked, all right – the sooner, the _better_.

 

Brian leered good-naturedly at him in response to the insinuation. " _Never_ , Mr. Taylor. It's just I always heard you could tell the ones that needed milking the most in the morning by how vocal they were. Why don't we see just how _vocal_ you can BE?" Brian always got off on seeing how much torment he could create for his partner; the more vocal Justin became, the hornier HE became.

 

He supported his body with his knees between his partner's legs and intertwined his long fingers with his partner's as he began to draw an extremely slow, ever-so-leisurely swipe of his talented tongue down the side of Justin's neck and continued his pleasurable journey onto the plains of the pale, lean chest. He heard a slightly louder moan now as he paused to take a languid lap around the right nipple until he saw the pale, pink peak hardening into a rosy pebble; he then took a slight side detour over to the other nipple to lavish the same attention on it. _TWO can play that slow-motion game, Sunshine_.

"You taste _so good_ ," Brian purred huskily against the other man's chest; the vibration of his lips against the pale flesh and the warm breath washing over the smoothness invoked a visible tremble in his partner's body as he felt Justin struggling to have his hands released in a desperate bid to touch the other man. "Uh, uh, uh," Brian softly chided him, as he continued his journey southward, his warm lips now branding a wet path down to the flat stomach.

 

"Bri-an," Justin whined. "You're _killing me here_ ," he complained; his legs fidgeted restfully below and he squirmed in delicious torment as he felt Brian's tongue meandering now into his navel to swirl around and around the tender, sensitive flesh. "God, Brian!" he cried out more loudly now as he heard the other man chuckle at his frustration; Justin couldn't help giggling a little, though, as he felt the other man's lips buzzing around his stomach. "That _fucking tickles!_ Stop it!" He didn't know how much more exquisite torture he could take at the hands of his own sexy tormentor. Brian may never wind up being an outdoorsman, but if this was any indication of his _milking_ technique, hell, Justin didn't _care_. That didn't mean it wasn't driving him _crazy_ , though. He growled, "Will you fucking get _ON with it?_!"

 

Brian laughed and rose up to pause just long enough to smile smugly. "NOW you know how I felt after your little striptease act down at the lake the other day, _Mr. Taylor_." Justin stuck his tongue out at him in reply, but then _s-l-o-w-l-_ y licked first his upper lip, then the fuller, lower lip with his tongue, just like an extremely sexy iguana might. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about, _Mr. Kinney,"_ he choked out in a breathy voice; it was hard to concentrate on being indignant when the man was looking at him like he was the tastiest breakfast he had ever had.

 

"You little fucker," Brian growled as Justin smiled rather smugly himself; the brunet leaned in again briefly to steal another wet, hot kiss from his willing partner before resuming his trek ever downward, his hands still holding the pale, slender ones in firm captivity.

 

"Oh, Shit!" Justin almost shouted this time and his hips bucked upward, his hands straining now against the firm but gentle restraint as Brian found his intended target. "Yep, looks like I got to the milking _just in time_ ," he declared huskily, inhaling the familiar, sweet/salty scent before his mouth greedily claimed his prize in a firm, suctioning grasp.

 

As Brian continued to steadfastly torment him, Justin decided maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea after all to deviate from his plan to make sure they went camping in true pioneer style; in fact, he was definitely beginning to see an advantage in making good use of a king-sized, pillow-topped feather bed in the park's lodge rather than a hard, cold sleeping bag. Of course, if they had been fucking presently way out in the wilderness at their campsite instead of in the lodge, no one else would have been able to hear the extremely vocal cries of pleasure that were currently emanating from his lips as Brian finally released his hands to begin a new type of torment on his ass as well as his cock. Hopefully the lodge's walls were well-insulated so the shock factor for the older guests would be kept to a minimum, although at the moment he really _didn't care_ – he was enjoying himself far too much.

 

Freed of his own constraints at last, hands and lips were now roaming jointly as the two men continued their familiar, delicious dance of passion; Brian's moans of pleasure were now rivaling his partner's as their mutual lovemaking quickly reached a tumultuous, exhilarating climax.

 

* * *

 

Brian placed a kiss on his little Picasso's sweat-soaked forehead as they lay curled up in their bed afterward. "That…was definitely the _full-bodied_ kind of milk," he declared as he heard Justin laugh softly; his breathing slowly evened out from their just-completed round of rigorous fucking. "This fresh country air is SO _invigorating."_

 

Justin smiled as he stretched out like a sated cat and snuggled deeper into their bed; he was beginning to like this more _civilized_ style of living. Oh, the camping had been a wonderful, unique adventure with the man he loved; but he had to admit, the Spam and beans and the sleeping bag couldn't hold a candle to a tasty combo meal of fried chicken and horny Brian.

 

He looked up at the brunet, whose head was resting on top of his; one of his arms was casually draped around Justin's waist; he could feel the steady breathing of their hearts and feel his partner's soft breathing as it slowly regained a more relaxed rhythm.

 

"I can feel the wheels turning inside that brain of yours, _Mr. Taylor_ ," was the soft, perceptive murmur. "What are you thinking?" Hazel eyes looked down to stare into the expressive, so familiar blue ones.

 

Justin smirked, wondering if Brian could not only fuck him senseless, but read his _mind_ now, too. "I was thinking _extremely lascivious_ thoughts about you, Mr. Kinney," he whispered teasingly as his hand drew feather light, tender circles around the other man's chest; he felt the taut flesh ripple beneath his touch in response.

 

Brian twisted his mouth. "Now _that_ I can believe, Sunshine. But are there any other kinds worth h _aving_?" He reached around to pull the slender body even closer to his. "I'll give you a few minutes to recuperate, though, before we start on Round 2."

 

Justin snorted. "You're the _senior_ , here, _Mr. Kinney_. What makes you think I NEED to recuperate?" In confirmation, he snaked a slender hand between them and firmly grabbed the brunet's thick cock to give it a squeeze.

 

Brian grunted in response, growling, "Be careful where you put that weapon, _little boy_."

 

Justin giggled as he squeezed harder; catching the man off-guard, he deftly climbed on top of his lover, placing both of his hands on the other man's shoulders and looking down at him gleefully. "My _weapon_ is _cocked and loaded_ , old man," he replied tauntingly, rubbing his _weapon_ against the other man wantonly as he sat on top of him. "Don't worry, though…..MY ass can ride you better than you rode that _bull."_

 

An evil-looking gleam appeared in the brunet's eyes as he retorted, "Oh, yeah…..let's just see about that, shall we?" Justin was unprepared for the tickling assault promptly launched against him, and he quickly hung on for dear life as Brian began to attack him mercilessly.

 

"You asshole!" Justin shouted, laughing. You _KNOW_ I'm ticklish _there!_ Just like you're ticklish down _HERE!"_ As he held on with one hand now, he reached down to begin tickling Brian between his stomach and the side of his waist, right where he knew he was the most sensitive. Justin finally lost his tenuous hold on the other man, and fell off him, landing on his side. As they shared a tender look before Brian took advantage of their close proximity to pull his partner back to him for a resounding, lengthy, kiss, the piercing staccato of a raucous siren interrupted their revelry.

 

"Shh!" Brian shushed his partner, who was still trying furiously to get the upper hand in their tickling bout. "Listen!" he commanded, placing a hand gently over Justin's mouth. Justin stilled finally, quietly listening as the siren got closer and closer.

 

He looked over at the brunet with a questioning look. "What do you think _that's_ all about?" Justin asked him.

 

Brian shook his head. "Not sure…..but I have a suspicion." He quickly rose from the bed and grabbed his pants to Justin's disappointment; apparently their fun and games, at least in their bed, was over for now. "Come on," Brian told his partner, pulling at his hand to get up and join him.

 

Justin looked around quickly for his cargo pants to put them on; once they were both partly clothed, they walked over to the balcony and opened the doors to peek out across the parking lot.

 

Brian chuckled softly. "Don't look now, Sunshine, but it looks like once again you're art work has garnered some attention."

 

As the two men peered down at the parking lot, they observed a West Virginia Highway Patrol car, its top lights flashing as it idled near Michael's car. A tall, muscular man in uniform arose from behind the driver's seat and walked slowly over to the nearby car, seemingly examining every artistic inch of the orange-colored panorama. As he slowly shook his head, they observed a gray-haired couple approach the man and engage him animatedly in conversation.

 

"Oh, my God, Brian!" Justin murmured excitedly. "Look!" He pointed as the highway patrolman apparently finished up his conversation with the older couple and strode over to the nearest room door, which happened to be Michael and Ben's room.

 

The two partners shared a grin between them as Brian commented dryly in a perfect Ricky Ricardo accent, "Looks like Mikey's got some 'splaining to do."

 

Justin smacked him lightly on the arm in response. "What do you think is going to _happen_?" he asked the brunet, as they watched the uniformed man knock authoritatively on the door; a few seconds later they noticed Michael answering the door with Ben standing directly behind him.

 

"I think we're _about_ to find out," Brian chuckled, as they continued to watch fascinated as the mini-drama played out directly below them. After a few seconds, they observed Michael and Ben following the uniformed man out to their car as they all stood there staring over at the colorful transformation.

 

"I must say, Sunshine, your likeness of Mikey is uncannily accurate…..at least in the _face_ , anyway. He's already taken some exception to your rendition of _another_ part of his anatomy. But I guess the lad can't blame you, since you don't have _first-hand_ knowledge in that particular area." He patted the top of his partner's head as if he were consoling a disappointed child; he received a glare from the blond in return.

 

"Nor will I ever WANT to, thank you very much," he retorted in distaste at the mere vision. His repugnance at the thought of seeing Michael's cock up close and personal was quickly discarded, however, as he noticed what was now going on down below. "Oh, my God – do you see THAT?" Justin cried out softly. They turned and watched in shock as the conversation between the three men apparently became heated seconds before the patrolman abruptly whipped out his handcuffs and deftly bound Michael's hands together. As he led him over to the back of his car, Ben followed closely behind, still discussing the situation passionately with the officer before the uniformed man shook his head and promptly opened the rear door to firmly push Michael into the back seat.

 

"You know, Mikey always HAS looked flattering in stripes. He DOES get a little claustrophobic in confined spaces, though." Brian shook his head in mock concern. "I told the boy he shouldn't go around in public places showing off his little cock for all the world to see, but did he _listen? NO…._ And _now_ just look. The poor boy's gone and gotten himself into a heap of trouble." He clucked in pity. "I thought I taught the lad _better_ than that. He should have at least gotten rid of the evidence," he decided.

 

Justin giggled at Brian's melodramatic performance; he noticed the older couple who had spoken to the officer earlier standing off to the side nodding their heads in approval as "Michael the pervert" was arrested. "I think Michael disturbed their _conservative sensibilities_."

 

Brian nodded, grinning. "Well, I'm SO glad they were here to keep the park safe from that lewd fairy…..now _what_ was that name again?" He smiled broadly and his eyes lit up as the name of Michael's true self came to his mind. "Oh, yeah… _Dumpling_. But where there's one, there's _always_ another. Oh, _Clear Day…Where for art thou?" Brian whispered, raising his hands in a Shakespearian quest for an answer to his inquiry._

 

As if right on cue, the commotion occurring right outside his door must have disturbed the occupants of the adjoining room, because _Clear Day_ himself suddenly opened his suite to walk out to the officer to see what was going on.

 

Justin gasped in glee. "There he IS now!" he pointed out to Brian, who laughed quietly. The brunet looked at Justin long enough to exhort, "Oh, I couldn't have _scripted_ this any fucking _better_!" He clapped his hands together once in great pleasure; suddenly all of his past week's misadventures were beginning to feel minor now as he watched Emmett start waving his hands near the officer as he talked to him, deep in conversation. The highway patrolman was pointing at something drawn on the car while Emmett walked directly beside him as they slowly examined Justin's handiwork. Apparently Emmett's explanation wasn't being received positively, however, because within a few seconds the patrolman had somehow produced a _second_ pair of handcuffs and was angrily slapping them onto _Clear Day_ before you could say _Barbara Streisand_.

 

Calvin, who had also come out of his and Emmett's room to stand with mouth agape at the drama being played out directly in front of him, watched helplessly with Ben as the patrolman spoke a few more words to the professor before walking determinedly over to the driver's seat of his patrol car and getting in. A few seconds later, the car pulled out of his parking spot and drove off with the _detainees_ ensconced together in the barred, rear seat reserved for the newest additions to West Virginia's convict population.

 

Justin clapped his hand over his mouth in shocked surprise; he figured his artwork would certainly attract its share of notoriety, but he _never_ imagined it would result in two of his friends being _arrested_. He knew he should feel awful about it, but at the moment it was just too damn _funny_. Apparently, Brian agreed as well, because the look he was currently given his partner was one of total vindication and smug satisfaction.

 

Brian finally stood and pulled his partner up flush with him. Taking a deep breath of accomplishment, he remarked professionally, "Well…..now that _that's_ finished, where _were_ we?" he asked, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.

 

Justin laughed as they turned to re-enter their room hand in hand, the drama below completed as Ben and Calvin resignedly returned to their own accommodations. "What do you think they'll _do_ to them?" he asked his partner, who was busy trying to pull the blond's pants back off as he walked him backward toward their sadly-neglected bed. As Brian pushed Justin back down on the bed, finally successful in divesting the blond of his pants, he paused just long enough to do the same to his own clothing before he sprawled on top of the slender body to begin his sensual attack anew on his very own personal _woodsman._

 

"Oh, don't worry, Sunshine," he murmured, as he began to nuzzle the other man's neck with his teeth and his hands began to roam wherever they could reach on the soft, warm flesh beneath him. "Their stay in jail won't be any worse than what my ass had to endure this past week." As he peered down at the flushed, aroused body of his lover, he whispered huskily, "But you're about to help me more than make _up_ for that."


	14. The Jailbirds

_The Next Day – Berkley Falls Lodge_

 

Lying on his back, Brian burrowed deeper into the king-sized bed, reveling at last in luxurious sleeping quarters; after having his ass tortured the past week – and not in a GOOD way – he was in no hurry at all to get out of this soft, overstuffed feather bed. That didn't mean he necessarily had to be _sleeping_ in it, though; in fact, he could think of something even more _pleasurable_ to do with his ass – and someone _else's_ – at the moment.

 

His eyes still closed, he blindly reached out to his side to touch the familiar, warm body of his _artiste in residence_ ; when he only came up with air instead and a rather cold mattress, however, he opened his eyes slowly and turned his head in puzzlement. _Where did the man GO?_ He normally could tell when Justin left their bed; even though they may not necessarily be touching when it happens, it was as if they had some type of invisible tether attached to each other or a kind of radar that went into red alert when the other man rose from their bed and left. Perhaps that was why Brian had awakened; without his partner there, it just didn't feel quite as inviting as it normally would.

 

He raised his head and craned it around their suite to search for him, but the surroundings were quiet. He groaned in protest a little as he slowly sat up and the thin sheet fell down around his waist; he smirked as he noticed how crumpled up it was and how tangled his legs were in the satin fabric. _That was some wild rodeo riding we did last night, Sunshine_ , he thought, smiling smugly. All that celebrated vindication this morning had made them both horny as hell and extremely _energized_ , to Brian's great satisfaction. As he pulled the sheet back and arose from the bed, the soreness around his thighs and ass was direct reflection of their numerous "workouts;" in a moment of weakness after Justin had taken a ride on his _stallion_ , he had even allowed his little cowboy to do some _ropin'_ of his own. Now all he had to do was FIND the _little Buckaroo_.

 

He kicked the sateen sheet from his feet and twisted his body around to rise from the bed. Padding over to the bathroom, he relieved himself before indulging in a long shower under the spa-like head. Feeling refreshed from the invigorating spray and finally dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved black tee shirt, he was beginning to get concerned about his partner's whereabouts when he heard the doorknob turning. As he peered around the corner of their kitchen, he observed Justin quietly entering the room and closing the door; his partner was obviously assuming he was still asleep. Never one not to take advantage of a situation when it was warranted, he took the opportunity to quietly sneak the few feet over to his partner while he still had his back to him.

 

Brian burst out chuckling as Justin jumped up in the air and let out a screech when he grabbed him tightly from behind. "Fuck!" Justin screamed as he felt a pair of arms pinning him against a muscular, taut body – a body he knew extremely well; after all, the man had spent a considerable amount of time getting him _reacquainted_ with it – over and over and over again. Not that he was complaining exactly, but _was the man a fucking ROBOT or what? And he thought HE had stamina_. "Bri-an," he protested. "You've GOT to be kidding," he scolded him as he turned around in the other man's arms. "Haven't I paid penance enough by now for talking you into going camping?"

 

"No, Sunshine, you haven't paid my penis back enough yet….."

 

"I said _penance_ , you moron, and you KNOW it!" he retorted, his eyes flashing in mock irritation. Only problem was, Brian couldn't tell whether his eyes were flashing or anything else, because Justin was strangely wearing a dark pair of sunglasses and yet another one of his fashionable hats; this one, though, was new. It was a camouflage-design hunting cap, which just happened to match the brown, olive green, and black speckled overalls. _Overalls?_

 

Brian released his partner and stood back from him as if he were seeing him for the first time – at least, he _THOUGHT_ it was Justin – it smelled like Justin and it _sounded_ like Justin, but it sure as fuck didn't LOOK like Justin. "What in the HELL are you _wearing_?" he growled, aghast. He leaned over and raised the sunglasses slowly to look into his partner's eyes. Yeah – it was Justin all right; _SOMEWHERE_ in there.

 

Justin stood stiffly, his hands on his hips; just what was wrong with his _outfit_? "Did you honestly think I'd walk down to the lobby without a disguise?" he answered shortly.

 

"Why? Trying to blend in with the crowd? Although, I think it's a little early for wild turkey hunting season, Elmer Fudd," Brian quipped. "Be vewy, vewy _quiet_ ," he whispered, placing a finger over his lips before he broke out in a laugh to Justin's extreme aggravation.

 

"Vewy, vewy FUNNY _,_ Bugs," he snapped testily, shoving Brian's shoulder none too playfully and walking past him to plop down on the suite's couch. He finally removed his glasses and flapped hunting cap as Brian walked over to join him; the brunet stood a few feet away, shaking his head in amusement. "Okay…..I give up, oh Great Hunter. You want to tell me what you're up to NOW?"

 

Justin shook his head in aggravation; was this man dense or what? He held out a folded newspaper as he said, "I went down to the lobby to pick up the afternoon edition of the paper. I wanted to see if there was anything in there about Emmett and Michael getting arrested this morning. I didn't want Ben or Calvin to recognize me," he explained. The reason seemed perfectly logical to him; although he had to admit that perhaps spending a week out in the primitive wilderness may have scrambled his brain just a bit by now.

 

Brian snorted as he took the proffered paper and sat down next to his partner. "No chance of that happening in THAT getup, Sunshine," he told the blond. "It sure is subtle," he observed as Justin glared at him. "So did you see anything in there about it?" he asked curiously; he figured in this small burg, the event of this morning was probably big doings here.

 

Justin nodded solemnly. "Page 3," he said curtly, as he peered over to watch his partner open up the indicated page.

 

"Holy shit," Brian said, noticing a black and white mug shot of their two friends, along with a helpful accompanying identification line directly below indicating their full names; the headline read _Pair Arrested for Lewd Conduct_. "Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder if the jail photographer ever does freelance work? I don't think Michael or Emmett have ever looked better." He frowned as he continued to scan the article. "Actually, I'm a little insulted," he said. "If anyone was going to be accused of lewd contact, it should have been us. Ow!" he snapped, as Justin smacked him on the shoulder. "Will you fucking take it _easy_?" he protested. "I'm very delicate, you know."

 

Justin snorted. "Delicate my ass," he growled.

 

"Yes, it is," Brian answered, nodding. He at last received a small smile from his partner in return. He turned back to the article to read the rest of the narrative. "Shit! It says they could face up to three years in _jail_? I wonder what type of food they serve them down here. Possum grits and moonshine?" he asked in his best down-home accent. "The booze might not be too bad, but grilled _snout_? I don't know about that. Might be low-carb at least..."

 

"Will you be _serious_ here?" Justin replied, glaring at him. "They could be in big trouble, Brian! We have to do something!"

 

"Are you fucking _crazy_ , Sunshine? They put us through hell this past week! They scared us shitless – more than once, I might add – they almost made us drown, and worst of all, they fucking turned my hair _orange_! NOBODY messes with my hair!" he snapped. "By the way, you weren't exactly an innocent bystander in our retaliation plan, you know – I'd say they got _exactly_ what they deserved! Let them eat hog jowls in there until they _explode!"_

 

"Brian," his partner scolded him. "I know you don't mean that – Michael's your _best friend_ ; and Emmett – God, poor Emmett wouldn't last one _night_ in jail with the way he dresses and talks and…..well, you know," he finished lamely. Did he really have to spell it out?

 

"You mean the queers would be all over his rosy little bottom before you could say Aunt Lula's fruitcake," he finished for him as Justin nodded soberly. He huffed. "Well, I _still_ say they need at least a day or two in there just to teach them not to mess with our heads," he maintained. "The only one I let mess with my _head_ is YOU."

 

Justin grimaced. "Thanks…I _think._ I STILL say we need to help them, Brian. If not for the two of _them_ , then, Debbie. Do you really want a red-headed, infuriated mother like her on your back when she finds out who caused her son to wind up in jail?" He peered over at his partner pointedly with a fixed gaze until he heard the brunet sigh and raise his hands in surrender.

 

"Okay, okay," he conceded grudgingly. "You've got a point there. What exactly do you have in mind?"

 

"We'll have to break them out," Justin decided firmly.

 

"We'll have to _WHAT?_ I could have sworn you just said we'll have to break them out."

 

"That IS what I said."

 

"Are you out of your FUCKING MIND? Do you want to wind up in jail WITH them?"

 

Justin huffed. "I didn't say it'd be easy – I'm just saying that's what we need to _do_."

 

Brian stood up and stared down at the man who was impersonating Justin Taylor. "You have GOT to be kidding! Do you know what would happen if we get caught helping them escape? We'd wind up in jail WITH THEM! Now I could take being in close quarters with some of those hardened convicts , but no way am I sharing a jail cell with Emmett! I did that once, remember? It was NOT pretty – well, maybe pretty if you're into _drama queens_ , but trust me – it was NOT pretty. Besides, I LIKE my loft – I don't get off on cement and steel bars – too austere."

 

Justin stood up to confront his partner, his face a picture of stubborn obstinacy. "Well, if you won't help me, I'll just have to do it _myself_. I know what they did was wrong, but I can't deal with them being in jail because of it. I never realized it would go _that_ far." He promptly reached over to replace his sunglasses and hunting cap on his head, prepared to tromp out to begin the _Great Queer Rescue_.

 

Brian sighed heavily as he continued to star at his pigheaded, out-of-his-mind partner in disguise. "I'm going to regret this," he muttered, shaking his head. "Where are the convicts incarcerated?"

 

Justin smiled, happy now that his life partner was now agreeing to be his _partner in crime_ as well. "The South Putnam County Jail," he answered easily; he had it practically memorized since he had read about their friends' plight earlier and had began to formulate his plan.

 

"Of course," Brian snarled. "Right next to the Dukes of Hazzard Museum, no doubt." He reached over to snatch Justin's hat off his head, as the blond raised his hands in an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve it.

"Hey! Give that back, Brian! I need it!"

 

"No way, Elmer! You'll have to find _another_ disguise! If you think we're going to go down there and bust them out with you wearing THAT outfit, you're fucking out of your mind! Do you really think that constitutes going _incognito_?"

 

Justin glared at him. "As a matter of fact, I DO. A hunter should be practically invisible around here. If anyone would stand out like a sore thumb, it would be YOU in your Armani jeans and Gucci shirt." He raked his eyes disdainfully over his partner's lean, albeit fucking sexy-as-hell body perfectly molded in his casual attire; he looked great if Justin was wanting to fuck him senseless, but he certainly didn't look the part for what HE had in mind at the moment. "We'll just have to stop at the Goodwill on the way there," he decided spontaneously. He snatched his hat back and placed it on his head as he began to pull Brian toward the door before the man had a chance to digest _that_ piece of information. _Three...Two...One….._

 

"No FUCKING WAY!" Brian protested as he realized just what Justin had said; his normally luxiously-appointed ears had refused at first to acknowledge what his partner had actually said before Justin quickly opened the door and shoved him out. "I am NOT driving near Goodwill, I am not stopping at Goodwill, and I am most certainly NOT wearing anything that CAME from Goodwill!" he yelled, insulted.

 

Justin loudly shushed him. "Will you shut the HELL up? Do you want the whole building to _hear you?"_ he snapped, as the elevator came to a blessed stop and opened up. He hastily pushed Brian in, silently thankful of the fact that they were alone in the car. "It's just for today," he said soothingly as he patted Brian's shoulder, trying to placate his partner's wounded ego and pride. "No one knows you down here," he pointed out helpfully.

 

" _I_ know me," Brian complained. "Do you have any idea what might be _hiding_ in those clothes? All kinds of vermin – bedbugs, lice, moths….." He shuddered in disgust at the mere thought of it. He loved Justin, but there were limits to what he would do for him. This was quickly approaching one of those times.

 

"Oh, don't be such a snooty coward," he chided him, his eyes bright as he reproached his partner. "It's just to get us into the jail so we can see what we're up against," he told him evenly. "I guarantee you – no one in their right mind would be here that would recognize you."

 

"Correction…..no one in their right mind would ever be here PERIOD," Brian snapped, huffing out an angry breath. He gave up a king-sized feather bed for THIS? A sudden thought occurred to him. "What about Ben and Calvin? Do you think they just ran off and left their _honey buns_ locked up in jail? I seriously doubt that."

 

Justin frowned. "Yeah…..I hadn't thought about it. I imagine they're still here _somewhere._ All the more reason why you need to get out of those clothes."

 

"Sunshine, any other time I would be _delighted_ by your demand, but NOT for _this_ reason," he protested vehemently, shaking his head.

 

Justin slowly walked over to Brian and placed a warm hand on his chest, palm down. "Please, Brian," he whispered pleadingly, his blue eyes searching the other man's with that puppy-dog look that always got Brian in trouble, and more often than not, got Justin exactly what he wanted. "Think of Debbie…..worried about her baby locked up with all those big, bad felons. Think of the never-ending torture she will no doubt inflict upon both of us for subjecting her baby to perverts and _straight men_. Think of the never-ending recriminations.….."

 

"All right, all right!" Brian growled. "Damn you, Justin – you had to pull out the big guns, didn't you? You know I'm defenseless against Debbie in her full-blown, protective mother hen mode! All right," he said finally, but he was still disgusted at the mere thought. "We'll stop at fucking Goodwill. But I'm NOT trying anything _on_ – and I'm NOT wearing anything plaid or polyester." He shuddered again, aghast at the mere thought. _How does he get himself talked into these things? Oh, yeah…..Justin._ The man presently molding himself against him in gratitude and raining butterfly kisses all over his face, his neck, and his shoulders as he softly tousled the hair at the back of his neck. The man whose quickening pulse still made his own speed up at his mere touch. The man he loved to _death_ – even when he WAS being totally unreasonable and totally out of touch with any sort of fashion decorum. _Looks like Debbie's not the ONLY one I'm defenseless against..._

 

As they more quietly now exited the elevator by the lobby and peered out carefully to make sure no one they knew was observing them, Brian couldn't help the same thought from entering his mind as if in a perpetual loop. _I'm going to regret this, I'm going to regret this, I'm going to regret this…._


	15. Shopping at Goodwill - Egad!

_Thirty Minutes Later_

 

"I fucking don't _believe_ this," Brian muttered under his breath, as they pulled up at the Main Street Goodwill Store. Although it had to be near closing time – it was almost 4:00 – there were still a fair number of vehicles parked outside; Brian noticed with little surprise that most of the vehicles were pick-up trucks with gun racks in the rear window; some of them also had what looked like deer antlers mounted on the hood. "What? Are they giving away a free box of shotgun shells with each clothing purchase?"

 

As Brian parked their SUV as far away from the trucks as possible – he _still_ had at least a _little_ of his dignity left – or so he thought – he shook his head in disgust. Now he knew how it felt to be a fish out of water; he felt about as comfortable as a queer at a hetero PTA.

 

As he looked over at Justin, however, the blond seemed positively riveted to the scene splayed out before them as he surveyed their surroundings intently. "See," he said triumphantly, as a camouflage-clad man walked out of the store. He waved his arm in emphasis as he boasted, "I _told_ you I'd blend right in with the crowd."

 

"And you actually sound _proud of that fact_ ," Brian retorted. He took off his expensive Armani sunglasses to glare over at his partner. He shuddered as he thought of just what sort of fashionable apparel they would no doubt find inside. "How in the hell did I ever think we had anything in common?" he sighed. Justin, however, seemed to think they were about to enter Disneyland, instead of Apparel Hell; his eyes were lit up with excitement as he tried to crane his neck around Brian to see what was inside as he commented, "I wonder if they have any of those bright orange hunting vests to go with my overalls." A sudden thought occurred to him as he smiled impishly back at Brian and said, "You know, one of those jackets would have gone perfectly with your previous hair style. It's kind of a shame you had to change it. I think the orange hair was making Tiny hard."

 

Justin had to laugh loudly as he looked over at Brian, who had a distinctly-green look to his skin at the thought of a dalliance with the "larger-than-life" Tiny. "Well, it's too bad now – Tiny will just have to see you in his dreams," he joked, deliberating using the words that he knew would evoke a mutual memory between him and Brian. He wasn't quite sure if that was a good idea, but it came out of his mouth anyway before he could take it back.

 

"Well, something tells me that it wouldn't take Tiny's hard-on too long to go soft, and if you even _entertain_ the thought of putting _anything_ on ME that _remotely_ looks orange, you'll be seeing ME in your dreams, too…your fucking _nightmares_ ," Brian warned his partner. For some inexplicable reason, though, the other man didn't seem too concerned about that threat. In fact, Justin was downright _giggling_ at him. _I must be losing my touch – God, this place is starting to infect me_. He shook his head in resignation. _When did Justin develop the clairvoyance to see right THROUGH me? You know when – from the first moment he saw you._ "Can we just get this over with, please?" Brian said disdainfully, pinching his nose wearily.

 

Justin grinned. "Well, then, let's go take a gander, _Clem_ ," he replied in an overstated southern accent. He reached over to the dashboard and retrieved his hunting cap, pulling it down firmly on top of his head. Brian looked at him one more time before he leaned over and smacked him on top of his blond crown. "Ow!" Justin cried, scowling as he rubbed the place of impact. "Watch it – these people have shotguns around here and know how to _use_ them."

 

"Get the fuck out," Brian said, glowering at his partner as he opened the SUV's driver door. "Maybe if we hurry we can grab some fresh clothes from the donation drive-though."

 

Justin twisted his face and smirked at his partner before he unlatched his seatbelt and opened the passenger door to join him.

 

"The least you could have done was wear elevator shoes so I could hide behind you," Brian complained from behind him as he peered down into the ugly brown, olive green, and black cap hiding his partner's blond hair. Resigned to the fact that there was, unfortunately, nowhere left to hide, he growled, "Come on," as he – and what was left of his dignity – walked toward the entrance. "Just when you think things can't get any worse," he muttered before he began to reach for the door handle. He stopped just short of his goal, however, to turn expectantly toward his partner.

 

Justin gave him a puzzled look and placed his hand on his hip. "What are you waiting for – the _valet_?"

 

Brian twisted his face in disgust. "Hardly," he verified. "I'm waiting for you to open the door. Cooties," he explained simply in a falsetto voice.

 

Justin rolled his eyes. "Wimp," he murmured under his breath, before he firmly reached for the handle and opened the door. "I guess, then, that you going and getting a shopping cart is out of the question." An insulted sort of huffing noise was the only confirmation he got as he sighed in exasperation and turned toward the right front corner of the store to retrieve a small-sized cart that said _Bernie's Bargain Barn_ on the handle.

 

Walking back to his partner, he gave Brian a shrug of his shoulders and a slight smile before he began to wheel the cart toward the overhead sign that said _Men's._ To his annoyance, he had picked one of those wonderfully vocal carts that screeched with each turning of the wheels; as Brian winced, the brunet decided it sounded remarkably like fingernails being scratched on a blackboard, or perhaps two cats fighting at midnight.

 

"Give me that!" he finally snapped, practically grabbing it out of his partner's hands as he abruptly made a 180-degree turn and marched over to the cart carousel to retrieve a different model. He brought it quickly back to Justin with an "aha" look before he firmly wiped his hands on Justin's pants to remove the suspected "cooties."

 

"Oh, Brother," Justin muttered as he rolled his eyes again. "What a drama queen," he added, reaching over to pinch Brian's shirt and pull him toward the " _Better Men's Clothing_ " section.

 

"Why I'm touched, Sunshine," he said, the fake emotion pouring from his voice. "I didn't know I qualified for the _Better Men's Clothing_ section. Maybe now I'll find something upscale by Target instead of Wal Mart."

 

"You're _touched_ , all right," Justin growled as he began to peruse the racks of clothing. "Just stand there and look pretty while I find you something appropriate to wear."

 

Brian snorted. "For whom – the Moose Fellows?" He looked horrified as he saw Justin grab a pair of gray corduroy pants and hold them up against his body to compare the fit. "No…fucking…way," he growled, as he snatched the pants and hanger away and roughly hung them back on the rack.

 

Justin stood there, hands on his hips in exasperation. "Brian…..Do you want to get out of here or _not_?" he demanded.

 

"I won't even dignify that with an answer," his partner retorted. "It wasn't MY idea to come in here in the first place." He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, as he looked over and noticed a person staring back at him, seemingly engrossed in his (or her) gaze of him. The person was wearing what looked like a white house dress of some sort that snapped in the front with large blue polka dots. There was something about this "woman," however, that made Brian feel ill at ease.

 

Justin followed Brian's gaze over to the next aisle and frowned. "Don't look now, but either you're making a trannie horny or she's a housewife with a five-o'clock shadow." He giggled in delight at Brian's pained look as the brunet quickly turned away from the man – or _woman's_ – pointed stare. "Uh….let's go back to the _frumpy_ men's department," he hastily decided in disgust, as he grasped Justin's arm and quickly pulled him and the shopping cart down the aisle. Justin turned around to lip a silent " _sorry for your loss_ " to the "housewife" and fix him (or her) with a " _better luck next time, but he's all mine_ " stare before turning back around to follow his partner over to the next section of the men's department, gazing at Brian with an innocent, _what did I do_ stare when his partner glanced back to see what he was doing.

 

The brunet sighed loudly as they stopped in a different aisle. "Okay…..I'm going to give you FIVE MINUTES to work your fairy magic, and then I'm out of here," he snapped.

 

"How do you me expect to find you a complete ensemble in _five minutes_?" Justin complained. He began to swiftly separate the racked clothing to locate a pair of pants and an appropriate shirt for his partner. "We'll just have to forgo the hat, I guess," he decided. "We have to find you a pair of shoes, though…..maybe a nice loafer – or sneakers."

 

Justin looked back at Brian, who had remained ominously silent throughout his discourse. "Will you stop looking like you have a butt plug up your ass?" he whispered sharply. "It's just a change of clothing, for fuck's sake!"

 

A rolling of his eyes was the only reaction from his partner, as Justin shook his head in disgust and turned his attention to the critical task at hand. He decided it was best to continue his search with his back to Brian; no point in getting him even _more_ outraged when he found the right outfit for him. It would have helped if the store had sorted their men's shirts by size, but they were grouped all together. Knowing his time was quickly running out, he furiously began to search through the shirts, holding them up periodically to find one in the right size, before he located one up that he felt would be adequate for their "mission." Holding his treasured find tightly against his chest and out of his partner's line of sight, he looked over his shoulder to steal a quick glance at the slowly-seething, uncomfortable brunet before rushing down the aisle and heading for the men's pants racks. At least these were grouped by size, thankfully; that should make his next selection easier. Quickly pushing the average-length pairs aside, he concentrated on the _long_ selections. He noted to his frustration that apparently most men in West Virginia were either short and dumpy or of average height with rather questionable taste, because the long-length pants were few and far between; he dismissed several pairs of striped and plaid ones immediately out of hand – there was _no_ way his partner would be caught dead in any of those. It would have to be something non-scratchy, understated, non-polyester, non-corduroy, non-pleated, non…...He sighed; this was going to be harder than he thought. After a couple of minutes of frantic searching, he finally spied a pair that he thought might fit the bill. _I can't believe they sell these in here_ , he thought. _But it's perfect_.

 

He hastily threw the pants he had selected in the cart along with the shirt and quickly wheeled himself to the shoe department, leaving Brian standing there with a scowling look on his face. He was sure Brian couldn't see his selections, but he knew just the thought of what he had come up with was enough to make his partner very nervous. Unfortunately, the shoe selections were rather sparse. Several pairs of smaller sizes were rejected quickly until Justin had it narrowed down between a pair of rather scruffy, tie-up shoes and a pair of black, slip-on Hush Puppies. Which would go better with Brian's new outfit? Making sure his back was still to his partner, he held the pants and shirt up inside the cart to compare them to the shoe finalists. Definitely the Hush Puppies...Making up his mind, he rushed over to the checkout line, pulling out his wallet. _At least the clothing was affordable for someone on a starving artist's salary,_ he thought as he paid the bill for his selections - $6.00 (it was half-off day – don't let it ever be said that he wasn't a smart shopper). As the clerk put his selections in a white plastic bag, he looked around the store for his partner, finally locating him near the books, obviously trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. The poor man looked like Donald Trump inside a McDonald's. He finally caught Brian's attention and motioned with his head that it was time to leave. Brian looked tremendously relieved as he ambled up the main aisle, trying his best not to draw attention to himself; it would never work, however; the man's classic dress and handsome appearance made him stand out no matter _where_ he was. Yes, Justin had been correct – this man would have looked out of place immediately at the jail wearing what _he_ had on. It was time to redress his partner for his starring role.

 

As Brian finally met him at the exit door, Justin demanded, "Will you _please_ come on? Unless you want to experience the glory known as the Goodwill dressing room," he added; Brian's look of horror was immediate clarification that he would rather pass up that inordinate pleasure.

 

"About fucking time," he muttered as they walked out the door. "That whiskered house frau kept following me back there. The next time Ted has a problem with Viagara, I know who to call now." He noticed Justin holding his bag close to his chest as they walked out the door.

 

"Uh, uh, uh," Justin chided him, holding his bag away from Brian as the brunet tried to see the contents inside. "It's a _surprise_. Cost me a whole $6.00 for this outfit. It's 50% off day," he explained as he practically stuck out his chest in smugness.

 

"Oh, my God," Brian muttered. "I don't think I can wear something so extravagant. You're way too generous, Sunshine. You shouldn't have...….TRUST me – _you SHOULDN'T have._ " As he looked over at his partner, he swore that the man had been a peacock in a previous life; the man was almost strutting around over his ability to be such a thrifty shopper.

 

Justin merely stuck a partial pink tongue out at him in response. "Don't mention it," he replied sweetly. "Really – _don't mention it_. You STILL have to wear it." As Brian glared back at him as they walked toward the car, Justin added, "I'll grant you parole until we get closer to the jail, though."

 

Brian opened the driver's side and got it. "Thanks for the reprieve, _Buford_ ," he muttered as Justin joined him in the car. The brunet couldn't help eying the white plastic bag that his partner was guarding so protectively on the floor near his feet now.

 

"What are you sniffing at?" Justin asked him all of a sudden, as he noticed Brian sticking his nose up in the air.

 

"I'm trying to see how moldy those clothes are," he replied curtly as he placed the key in the ignition to start the vehicle. "We ARE going to run that shit through a washer and dryer first before I wear them, right?" He waited for a response but did not receive one. " _Right, JUSTIN?"_ He switched the motor off and turned to face his inexplicably silent partner. "RIGHT, JUSTIN?"

 

Justin sighed in exasperation. "Brian…..our friends are rotting in jail – we don't have TIME to run your clothes through the local coin laundry. You'll just have to suck it up and put the clothes on as they are." Before Brian could respond, Justin added, "I'm sure they spray all those clothes with disinfectant or something, anyway."

 

Brian closed his eyes as his face seemed to pale; suddenly his skin felt itchy all over. " _Disinfectant?_ " he said distastefully. _"_ That's very _comforting_. I feel much better now. You just make no mistake about it, Mr. Taylor…..when this is all over with, YOU will be doing the _suck it up_ part…got it?"

 

"Just like a Hoover…got it," Justin said fervently, crossing his hands over his heart in a symbolic promise. "It will be my pleasure, Lord and Master." He bowed his head in reverence, but couldn't help smiling widely at the other man's unease.

 

Brian shook his head before finally turning the key and pulling out of the parking space. Could this whole event get any worse? He quickly discovered that yes, it could...

 

_"I hear the train a comin', It's rolling round the bend  
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when,"_

 

_"I'm stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin' on  
But that train keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone.."_

 

"Justin?"

 

_"When I was just a baby my mama told me, Son,_   
_Always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns.  
But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die  
When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry.."_

 

"JUSTIN! Either shut the fuck up or NOBODY'S going to _see the sunshine_ …got it?"

 

"Party pooper."

 

"Twat"

 

"Fucker"

 

"Asshole."

 

"Tone deaf."

 

"Everybody's a music critic."

 

 

Brian sighed loudly. It was going to be a LONG afternoon. Jail would actually be better than _THIS_ captivity. If he didn't love this man….HE'D be joining Michael and Emmett happily.

 

Brian glanced over at Justin as he drove, relishing in the quiet; his partner, however, was almost pouting in silent resignation. His hands were crossed over his chest and his lips were firmly pressed together. Brian actually thought the man looked adorable, even if he WAS an aggravating little twat. But he was HIS aggravating little twat. He sighed again. "Justin…..I _said_ I'd wear my designer jail clothes. But as soon as this is over, I will be taking an hour-long shower while you do the major _sucking up_ part."

 

Justin smirked as a smile slowly and reluctantly appeared on his lips. _Too easy_ , he thought smugly. But he would never tell Brian that. _Let him think he's the Alpha male here_. _I win either way_. "Hoover at your service, Mr. Kinney," he answered, returning Brian's glance and grinning.

 

"Well, then, Mr. Taylor," he replied resignedly, " _Operation Jailbreak_ may now commence."


	16. Partners in Crime

_One Hour Later –South Putnam County Jail's Parking Lot_

 

"This is WAY too tight!" Brian grumbled as he scowled at his partner. "What were you _thinking_?"

 

"You never complained about that before," Justin pointed out. He had just given Brian "Hoover Blow Job #1" in his attempt to follow through on his part of their bargain and help pacify his unwilling _partner in crime_. "It was the best I could do since you refused to model for me," he answered in argument.

 

"I'd be GLAD to _model for you….._ if it's _WITHOUT CLOTHES_ on," he grumbled as he tried to pull the skin-tight pants over his long legs in the confines of their SUV. "Especially THESE clothes…..I thought you knew my size better than that…" he muttered under his breath.

 

"I know EXACTLY what your _size_ is," Justin bantered back at him impertinently. "I just had close exposure to it, remember? And it was large – admirably large; maybe even _impressively large_ ….."

 

"Don't try and flatter me, Taylor," Brian countered, as he lay in the back seat with his legs rigid, trying studiously to slide the stiff linen fabric up his long limbs. Justin thought he looked remarkably like a fish that had flopped out of water and was just lying there immobile as the life was slowly sucked out of him, kind of like when their canoe had toppled over and they had had to swim for shore.

 

"Well, suck in your gut some more," Justin tried to offer helpfully; unfortunately, that suggestion was immediately met with a steely glare of resentment.

 

"My _GUT_? Surely I didn't hear that correctly…are you insinuating I have a fucking _gut_?" Brian snarled, clearly offended by the intimation.

 

Justin rolled his eyes as he peered over at him from the front seat. "You know what I mean…..just take a deep breath and suck in your lean, flat, washboard stomach, then," he corrected himself. "It works on television," he pointed out.

 

"Yeah, in commercials where 350 lb., _Fruit-of-the-Loom_ women are trying to plaster on a pair of size 10 jeans onto a size 22 body!" Nevertheless, he breathed in a large puff of air as the pant legs slowly, finally made their way over his thighs and up around his waist while he arched his body upward to somehow button them. As the uncomfortably tight pants constricted his breathing and pinched his waist, he slowly lowered his prone body back to the rear floor of the SUV and tried frantically to breathe while he attempted to once again remember just why he had been talked into this. His voice came out in sort of a raspy, choked whisper. "You will not live long enough to EVER pay me back for THIS favor," he told his partner pointedly as he turned his head to look over at Justin; at the present time that seemed to be the only part of his body that was flexible enough to _move_.

 

Justin snorted. "You're merely visiting the jail, not the guillotine." _And he calls ME a drama queen…_

 

"Well, if this doesn't work, I'll BE in jail. I can't believe you talked me into this," he muttered under his breath. In his mind, he began to count off the several indignities he had been subjected to just in the past week: bear attacks – correction – _BARE attacks_ , a rain-drenched tent drowning, sleeping in the fucking SUV – or was it fucking in the SUV? Almost drowning in a hole-riddled canoe, being thrown off that damn horse, along with the mechanical bull, being turned into a giant navel orange, being forced to smell Spam and beans, and almost being riddled by a canned-beans bomb. And now Justin wanted him to help break out the perpetrators of his _indignities_? And that didn't even take into account the blond's horrible, dorky hats and, even worse, Justin's lame attempts at _singing_. He shook his head and closed his eyes in disgust. Why was he doing this again? For Michael and Emmett? The way he felt right now – they could just damn ROT in that jail. As he opened his eyes, however, to gaze into the intense, blue ones of the man that he – yes, damn it – _loved_ – he KNEW why he was doing it, and who he was doing it FOR. He wasn't kidding either one of them on that fact. He sighed. "All right, Sunshine - tell me again what you have in mind while I try to regain my normal breathing pattern."

 

* * *

 

_South Putnam County Jail – Detention Cell Area_

 

Emmett shuddered as he rocked back and forth on the stained, canvas cot. He warily eyed the beefy-looking blonde with the anchor tattoo who was staring at him curiously from the other corner of their confinement.

 

He whispered in the ear of his cellmate, careful not to be overheard. "I normally really go for the serviceman types, because they tend to give such _GOOD_ service…..but _that_ man gives me the _creeps_." He quickly glanced away as the blond eyed him a little too hungrily from the other side of the room.

 

"I don't understand why we haven't been given bail," Michael complained in a low tone of voice. "We've been in here since this morning – what's the problem?" he complained. "Is there only one judge in this god-forsaken, one-horse town?"

 

Emmett patted his friend on the back in an attempt to console him. "Now, Baby, didn't you hear Ben? The judge is out of town until tomorrow and there's nothing else they can do until then. I don't like it any better than _you_ do, believe me, but we haven't got any other choice." He noticed the blond "sailor" had finally stopped pacing and was sitting down; unfortunately, it was directly across from the two of them and he continued to peer over at them intently. It probably didn't help that Emmett currently has his arm around his friend, either. "At least we have each other," he told Michael reasonably, as he decided it might be prudent to remove his arm; he tried hard to sound more confident than he actually felt. Their idea to pull all those pranks on Brian and Justin had sounded like so much fun at the time, but it had proceeded to blow up in their faces. The biggest mistake they had made was staying in that damn lodge and bragging about their exploits. Of course, who would have guessed at the time whom their dinner companions would wind up being?

 

"I've had more than my share of jail tours before, remember?" Michael whispered; he shivered in response to the dank, cold air circulating through the cell. There were a total of four cots set up in the cell, but there was no way he could possibly get any sleep tonight, especially not with "Sailor Sam" staring at them. The man's bicep alone had to be larger in diameter than his entire _waist_. "I saw more than enough that one night." He rubbed his hands over his eyes, partially in exhaustion and partially in frustration. Why in the hell did he ever think it would be a good idea to try and fool Brian? He should have known it would blow up in their faces; after all, his best friend had been the king of practical jokers in high school. How in the world did he ever think he could fool someone like that? He should have realized Brian would be in a foul enough mood just from having to go camping in the first place. What was he thinking? And why couldn't Ben have somehow stayed here with him – why were the damn jailers so adamant against them having prolonged visitation?

 

"This is _unbelievable,_ " he whined as he let out a huff of frustration. "If I EVER let you talk me into helping you out again on one of your outlandish schemes, just go ahead and _shoot_ me – it would be better than being in THIS _rat hole._ Present company excluded," he hastily added, as he realized his voice had carried far enough that their cellmate had overheard it. Somehow he had the feeling it wouldn't be wise to upset their "buddy" at the moment. He huddled closer to Emmett in an attempt to obtain some much desired protection from his friend, although he doubted as if the man would be too effectual against their muscled "roommate." "It's going to be a _long_ night," he murmured fearfully in a low tone of voice.

 

* * *

 

"Maybe they're closed for the evening," Brian suggested as they walked toward the front entrance of the jail. _At least he could HOPE so….._ From the outside of the nondescript, square-shaped, brick building, there did not appear to be much life inside. The only thing that seemed to be moving at the moment were two unoccupied, wooden rocking chairs with peeling paint that were slowly rocking back and forth in the wind by the door. He didn't even see a police car in the parking lot.

 

"What are you _doing?_ " he heard unexpectedly. "You CAN'T walk up to the _front entrance_! You're supposed to act like you _belong_ here, remember?" Justin grabbed the brunet's arm and began to steer him around toward the rear of the building.

 

"I beg your _pardon_? _Michael and Emmett_ may belong here, _hoodlums_ may belong here, _moonshiners_ may belong here, hell, even crooked _politicians_ may belong here, but I do not, nor will I EVER, _BELONG_ here."

 

"Oh, brother," his partner replied testily. "Po-TATE-o, Po-TOT-o...You know what I fucking _mean_! You need to go in through the _back_!" he clarified. "It's NOT like the dentist's office – crime doesn't stop at 5 o'clock so the cops can go play _golf_! Now come _on_ …!"

 

"Oh, that's so deep," Brian retorted. He placed his thumbs in the front pants pockets of his "uniform" and swaggered along as he continued in a southern twang, "It's nice to know the lawmen of South Putnam County don't rest, not while there're perverts and fashion-challenged people wearing plaid with stripes to nab." He pushed his shades up on the bridge of his nose as he placed the hat Justin had found for him jauntily on his head, bringing his right hand up to the brim to give Justin a salute – except it wasn't the same type of "salute" he received in return from his partner, who gave him the finger before glaring at him and rolling his eyes in exasperation as he continued to pull the brunet toward the back of the building.

 

"Come _on!"_ he prodded his reluctant co-conspirator. "We've got to….."

 

"What? Hurry up and _wait?_ You KNOW I can't get in there without someone else letting me in…..It's not like I have a key, you know. Goodwill may sell uniforms, but they don't come fully equipped."

 

As they reached the back of the building, Justin noticed a large set of dumpsters set up inside a small privacy fence – just the perfect hiding place until the time was right. He noticed Brian turning his nose up at the pungent smells wafting from the containers in the rather hot air as he continued to pull the brunet over to the fenced-in area. Keeping the wooden gate ajar to allow for just enough of an opening to see any activity taking place near the back entrance, he finally released his OWN "prisoner" and turned to stare at the perturbed but sexy-as-hell Barney Fife glaring back at him, his long-fingered hands perched on his hips. The used uniform Justin had secured for him, although a little too snug in some places, fit Brian like a glove; the charcoal gray pants with the yellow striped piping and the matching long-sleeved shirt molded expertly to every muscled angle of his body. The blond silently congratulated himself on being able to size up his partner's clothing needs without the man's assistance. _Well, if it's a little too tight, Buddy, that's YOUR fault for not cooperating with me….._

 

He patronizingly patted Brian's arm as he smiled and told him, "Don't worry, _Officer Kinney_ …..you already look downright _arresting_ – when it comes to our plan, you won't NEED a key." Justin knew that if any gay male saw the way Brian looked right now, they would _pay HIM_ for one, good fuck; all they needed now was a willing participant. Surely one existed, even in THIS backwater town.

 

Brian snorted as he tried to futilely tug at his uniform pants, but it was simply no use – no matter _what_ he did, they were STILL going to be too tight. "OUR plan, Sunshine? From what I can see, this is going to be a SOLO performance."

 

"But _I_ was the one who thought of it," the blond argued.

 

"Yeah, well remind me later whether to congratulate you or _shoot_ you with my fake gun," Brian countered, which he realized, on second thought, he _didn't have_. Of course, if he was languishing behind bars later, he probably wouldn't have ready access to ANY gun, fake or not…for the moment, however, he chose to ignore that fact. "I love this place you found for us to hide in, by the way…very fragrant, in a repulsive sort of way."

 

Justin rolled his eyes. "Poor baby….such a sensitive disposition," he murmured, as he once again gave Brian a sympathetic pat on his shoulder this time, only to have his hand smacked in response. "Ow!" he cried out, a little too loudly as Brian suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth.

 

"Shh!" Brian retorted. "Do you _mind_? I'm trying to prepare for my role here and you're destroying the mood."

 

"Oh, my apologies, _Mr. Clooney_ ," Justin told the brunet, bowing and waving his arms in front of himself as if he were acknowledging royalty. "Since it involved fucking, I didn't think you _needed_ practice. While you concentrate, I'll just pluck me some dinner out of the dumpster behind us." He turned around as if he were about to do just that, only to have a hand snake out and nab him by his belt. "Not so fast, Bobby Flay…..I need you to be our lookout."

 

Justin turned around to glare at his accomplice. "Your _lookout_? Brian, this is a _breakout_ , not a bank robbery. What do you possibly need a lookout for? All you have to do is find a likely candidate with your gaydar, aim and shoot (so to speak)…..and, _wallah_! Mission accomplished!"

 

"Uh, huh…and what if someone _else_ shows up while my _Gaydar_ scope is sticking out? Are you simply going to outwit them with your charm and prettiness? Or pelt them with wadded-up balls of fast-food wrappers from the dumpster?"

 

"Ha, ha…..You just worry about YOUR part and I'll worry about mine…."

 

"Shh!" Brian repeated, as he quickly grabbed Justin's arm at the sound of an approaching vehicle. As the vehicle came closer, they both peeked their heads out warily from the slight opening of the door to peer over at their potential target.

 

A navy-blue police sedan with _South Putnam County PD_ on the side slowly pulled up to the back of the brick building and stopped. As the two men stared out, the driver's side opened to allow a dark-haired man to emerge. As he turned to close the door, Brian whispered in his partner's ear, "What about _him_?"

 

Justin stared at the other man intently with just a hint of jealousy; he _despised_ the idea of encouraging Brian to fuck anyone else to begin with, but in this case he decided the circumstances left them with no other choice but to use their most effective "tool." Unfortunately, this man didn't seem to be the ideal target anyway; he had seen a glimpse of a woman's photo holding a baby tucked in the car's windshield as the man had opened the door to get out. "Brian…..the man has a wedding ring on and is practically _broadcasting_ hetero…..I think you need to refocus your radar."

 

As the two of them watched, the man opened his cell phone to respond to a call; a few minutes later, as soon as he shut the phone, they observed him return to the vehicle, start it up, and rush away, his lights flashing and siren blaring.

 

He heard Brian sigh as he slowly closed the door and turned to face him. "Another citizen of the great town of Berkley Falls no doubt saved from a lifetime of scorn and shame over having too many pot belly pigs as pets….Sunshine, do you realize we may be out here for _HOURS?_ By the time we find the right target, Mikey and Honeycutt may be sprung from jail anyway. And I'm beginning to get nauseated from all the garbage smells….."

 

"Bri-an," Justin scolded him. "We have to _try_. It's our fault they're in here in the first place. Besides, once we have the right target, all it'll take is a little of the Kinney magic fairy dust, a quick fuck, and they'll be out of there – end of story."

 

"Uh, huh…..There's that _WE_ again…Once more, Mr. Taylor, I might beg to differ on THAT description…..and I don't quite buy that they're in jail because of US. If they hadn't subjected us to a week of torture, this never would have happened in the first place and I wouldn't have to use my _considerable talents_ to break them out of jail."

 

"Well, I'm so glad you're philanthropic, as well as multi-talented, then," Justin bantered back. "I promise when this is all over with, I will _satisfy your appetite_ properly." To emphasis his vow, he grabbed his partner by the upper arms and pulled him against his smaller body to provide him with a tentative taste as their lips smashed together in their familiar, sweet duel. As he relished the heady taste of his own brand of Sunshine, Brian couldn't help thinking, _Ah, Mr. Taylor…..what you do to me…..I get in MORE trouble because of you. And...I guess I wouldn't have it any other way._

 

As they finally broke apart several seconds later after sealing their deal, the sound of yet another patrol car approaching on the gravel driveway captured their attention. Of one accord, they again cracked open the wooden gate and peered cautiously outside. Another navy-blue patrol car came to a stop approximately ten feet away as a different officer opened the door and emerged. This time, it was a black-haired man of average height and weight; Justin could practically hear Brian's radar going _ping, ping, ping_ as he noticed his partner turn around and smile at him in a silent, mutual agreement. "That's the one," Brian whispered as he pointed at the man. "You wait here and if anyone else comes, knock on the door."

 

Justin nodded. "And just how long will the master need?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

 

Brian "sized" the other man up. "Doesn't look too _hard...OR_ impressive," he smirked. "I'd say, oh, about 15 minutes tops."

 

"Good…..I think that's about as long as I can take the garbage smell," Justin told him. He waited for a few seconds before adding impatiently, "Well? He's going to go inside if you don't move NOW."

 

"Oh, yeah? And what would you have me _do?_ Just casually walk up there and say, Hey, Stud…..Can you help me? I'm a state highway patrol officer and I seem to have misplaced my fucking _car_. Now THAT would sound plausible, wouldn't it?"

 

"Oh," Justin replied sheepishly. "I didn't think of that. I guess that's why you're the _brains_ of the outfit – I'm just the _pretty_ one." Brian snorted as Justin asked him, "So what are you going to do to get his attention then?"

 

"Well, let's at least wait a few minutes until after he gets inside. It'll be dark soon – he won't know then if I came in a car or not."

 

"Well, if he knew you well at ALL, he would know you come _anywhere_ you darn well like." As Brian rolled his eyes, the blond stuck a mature, pink tongue out at him in response. "You _so_ love me," he said playfully, his eyes lighting up in mischief as he gave a slight giggle.

 

"Yeah, well, I _SO_ hope you're warming up your vocal chords, and no, before you possibly misunderstand, I DON'T mean for ANY more singing…that perky little mouth is about to commence a marathon round of blow jobs very soon. You will so owe me for this…." He told his partner, shaking his head. _How do I let myself be talked into this?_ As he looked over at the shining, mischief-filled eyes of the beautiful blond vixen staring back at him, he knew he already realized the answer to that question. Only THIS man could make him jump through hoops and do things he _never_ in a million years thought he would do – like going camping and risking going to jail for his friends. He sighed in defeat; he was so utterly, irretrievably lost.

 

 

* * *

 

_A few minutes later_

 

"Okay," Brian said, peering out through the gate toward the back of the station. Luckily, once the sun had disappeared from the horizon, darkness had arrived fairly quickly; it was now dim enough that the patrol car could only be seen by the obscured light shining through what appeared to be office window located by the back door. It was fortunate, also, that no other police cars had arrived back at the station. _Apparently, there is at least ONE advantage to being arrested in a one-horse town._ "It's now or never," he decided. "I'm going IN." He started to open the door wider to leave just as his partner in crime grabbed his sleeve.

 

"This _isn't_ a drowning, Brian!" he retorted. As Brian huffed at him, he took a deep, calming breath before adding a little more quietly, "Anyway, good luck, Officer," he told him as he gave him a quick kiss on the lips and saluted him smartly. He hesitated briefly before adding solemnly, "If it's any comfort, just in case you wind up in the state pen for the rest of your life for assaulting another police officer, I want you to know that I'll never forget you."

 

"Fuck off," was the immediately reply. "Just start up the Hoover and get ready for some action." Before he departed, he added, "And don't forget to warn me if someone shows up. I won't have time for a threesome tonight."

 

"How the great have fallen," Justin muttered. "Will you just GO?" he gave Brian a push as the brunet glared back at him before he finally began to walk toward the back door. Justin held his breath as he heard "Officer Kinney" knock firmly on the door. Nothing happened for several seconds until he noticed the door being opened and the same police officer they noticed before standing there studying the sexily clad _man in uniform_ standing before him.. Justin regretted the fact that from his vantage point, he couldn't hear their conversation clearly, although he _could_ hear Brian's familiar, intriguing baritone voice and his ever-cocky, confident tone. He breathed a sigh of relief a few seconds later; whatever Brian had said must have worked because he managed to gain admittance inside as the other man, silhouetted by the interior light, stood aside to permit Brian entrance. The man seemed to take an inordinate time admiring his partner's muscled body before he finally turned to follow Brian inside.

 

_Well, at least Brian's gaydar appears to be functioning properly,_ Justin thought; as he watched the door slowly close, he found himself beginning to sweat in nervous anxiety. Although he had tried to make light of it in front of Brian, now that he was alone he was scared as hell that somehow their plan wouldn't work, despite his partner's enormous _talents_. What if Brian really DID wind up being jailed forever? He would never forgive himself. This plan HAD to work, then.

 

_Brian, you better put in the performance of your fucking LIFE_ , he fretted silently as his eyes never wavered from the back door which was ominously quiet now. _Fifteen minutes…._ As he waited in the foreboding darkness, he knew it would be the LONGEST fifteen minutes of his life.

 


	17. Cops and Robbers

_Five Minutes Later – Inside the Jail_

 

Michael watched glumly from his side of the cot he was currently sharing with Emmett, wondering once again how his circumstances had changed from sharing a luxury lodge suite with Ben to sharing a cold, cement jail cell with his friend. Was it just last night he and his husband had basked in the swirling jets of their king-sized Jacuzzi and made love in their feather bed? And now – here he was, sitting on a sagging, canvas-covered cot that doubled as their only piece of "furniture." My, how the mighty had fallen, he mused disgustedly. Never again would he even _attempt_ to trick Brian, the king of practical jokes.

 

Of course, Brian's _partner_ had a lot to do with their predicament as well; all that artwork definitely wasn't BRIAN'S doing. No, Brian had taught his partner well when it came to administering payback. Thanks to his and Emmett's not-so-bright ideas, they were now destined to spend the next several hours locked in cement purgatory with their own version of GI Joe now currently snoring loudly on his cot lying across from theirs.

 

"How can that guy _sleep_?" Michael muttered to his friend as he shook his head. "Don't they know what a thermostat is? It's cold as hell in here," he groused. He briskly rubbed his hands over his short-sleeved tee shirt to try and build up a little more body heat, but it was no use. He didn't know whether to be glad they had been allowed to wear their street clothes for their "visit" or complain about not being given the jail's version of fashionable uniform clothing – a pink and white striped shirt and pink pants. At least _the jail's_ top was long-sleeved.

 

Emmett shivered next to him and shook his head in agreement as he whispered, "Yeah, it's colder in here than a witch's tit in a brass brassiere."

 

"Huh?" Michael turned to him with a puzzled expression on his face. "What the hell does _that_ mean?" he asked.

 

Emmett shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea," he admitted. "All I know is that my Aunt Lula said it all the time and it just seemed to fit." He peered over at their "roommate," who continued to sleep the slumber of the dead. Something told him this man had utilized these luxurious accommodations before. "Actually, I kind of _like_ the pink and white – reminds of cotton candy."

 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Well, if we don't get out of here soon, I have feeling one of US is going to be HIS _cotton candy_ ," he said fearfully as he carefully watched the beefy sailor lying on his side, blessedly facing away from them at the moment. At least the man wasn't eying them like a side of beef.

 

Michael sighed in frustration and disgust as he continued to shiver violently in the cold air. "Em….can you put your arm around me?" He decided that despite his trepidation about giving "Sailor Sam" any ideas, his desire to be warmer outweighed any possible ramifications at the moment.

 

"Why, Michael, I'm surprised at you," Emmett whispered in a scolding tone of voice. "You're a _married man_."

 

Michael was about to try and smack some sense into his friend just as he heard two men talking nearby.

 

"Well, if you let me see _your_ baton, I'll let you see _mine_ ; although, I assure you, mine is _much bigger,"_ was the sexy boast.

 

"Well, _officer,_ I guess you'll just have to _cuff_ me to find out, won't you?" was the answering response from the other man, who emitted a nervous laugh as he obviously flirted with the other man.

 

Michael frowned. "I _know_ that voice," he said, perplexed. He actually recognized both voices – the first one belonged to their "jailer," but it was actually the _second_ one that he instantly perceived as being familiar for some reason. But _why_?

 

"Well, I'll have to start by _frisking_ you," Michael heard the second man's response. "Spread 'em," he added in an authoritative rumble, as the other man laughed nervously once again. Without even seeing the men, though, Michael knew it was painfully, almost embarrassingly clear who the _alpha_ male was and the subservient one and it most certainly _wasn't_ their jailer.

 

"Yeah….." Em whispered back, his forehead creasing in thought. "Me, too. Who do think it _is_?" There had been more than one policeman at the lodge when they were arrested, including the jerk that had argued with them about "public indecency" and had ultimately placed both of them in handcuffs and thrown them into the back of his cruiser. Was it perhaps _this_ man coming back to brag about his power play and taunt them? Somehow, though, that still didn't seem right. He definitely knew that voice, though; he just couldn't place it just yet without seeing the face that went with it.

 

As they both listened intently to the conversation going on nearby, they heard a rattling of metal, following by a giggle and then a scuffling noise. "Hey!" They heard an indignant shout of fury; the voice was loud enough now that it unfortunately roused their roommate from his deep slumber as he slowly rose from his cot and sat up, blinking his eyes in momentary, dazed confusion as he tried to figure out what had startled him awake.

 

"What the _HELL_ are you DOING?" As all three men listened, they could distinctly hear a struggle going on nearby. "Get me OUT of these fucking cuffs!" their jailer shouted, furious now as he realized he had been duped by the other man.

 

"I'll see that you're locked up for the rest of your _fucking life!_ " the man screamed.

 

"Oh, yeah? Before or AFTER you explain how you wound up in that predicament?"

 

"You son of a….." A large whacking noise sounded suddenly, followed by a grunt and another, smaller thumping noise before the man's ranting inexplicably stopped.

 

"You have the right to remain silent….." The second man said, chuckling softly to himself.

 

"Oh, my God!" Michael cried as he finally had a flash of epiphany and realized who the other man was. Before he had a chance to yell out, he heard a voice calling to them from near their cell.

 

"Oh, Mikey? Aunty Em? It's _Sheriff Man_ , come to rescue you from your life of crime!"

 

Both men immediately jumped to their feet as Brian appeared at the jail cell door, wearing a dark black uniform with _West_ _Virginia State Police_ emblazoned on his chest, a banded, black canvas patrol hat, and a pair of shades covering his eyes, accessorized with a wide smirk on his face.

 

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," Brian clucked reproachfully. "I give you a chance to live a life of luxury for one week and you fuck it up," Brian quipped, as he stood there twirling a ring festooned with numerous keys. Michael and Emmett noticed Brian was also holding a gun in his other hand. As they watched, Brian held it up, aimed it directly at them, and cocked the trigger; as they rushed to duck, they heard a click and looked up in time to see the lighter's flame flickering at the gun's end.

 

"You _asshole_!" Michael groused furiously, feeling foolish that Brian had yet again tricked him into thinking he had a real gun.

 

Brian laughed. "You're _too_ easy, Mikey," he chided his friend. "Justin was right – you wouldn't last one _night_ in here before you became somebody's prized bitch." To emphasize his point, he looked over at "Sailor Sam," who was gazing over at him and licking his lips. As Brian watched, the man gave him a small smile and a wink; Brian merely chuckled at the flirtatious attempt at a lame come-on before turning his attention back to the other "convicts."

 

"Well, if you'd rather stay in here for the next _social_ , I'm sure I can _arrange_ it, Mikey," Brian warned him.

 

"Oh, no," Emmett immediately replied. "Aunty Em knows there's _no place like HOME_." He leaned over to his friend and whispered in his ear, "Are you _crazy_ , Michael? I want _OUT_ of here. Who was it that said he had seen enough of jail? Now shut the _fuck up!_ "

 

"Okay, okay," Michael grudgingly conceded. "Get us _out_ of here….that's the least you can do after putting us IN here."

 

Brian's eyebrows raised in a combination of surprise and annoyance. "Excuse me? I think you arranged your little visit all on your own. If you had just done what I had _asked_ you to do, none of this would have ever happened. Now do some serious groveling and tell me you're _sorry_ , Mikey."

 

"Tell him you're _sorry_ , tell him you're _sorry_ , damn it!" Emmett snapped, as he noticed their other roommate continuing to stare at them pointedly. "This is no time to stand on principle!"

 

Michael knew the man was right – he was ready to get out of their frozen hell hole. He managed to huff out a half-sincere, "Okay, okay…I'm _sorry_ , all right? I'm SORRY, for God's sake! Just get us OUT of here!" He stood there, indignant, with his hands on his hips, despite Emmett's caution not to upset their would-be rescuer.

 

"Well, that was kind of lame, Mikey," Brian chided him. "But since I have Maw waiting for me outside, I'll cut you some slack," he decided, as he began to try opening their heavy steel door with the set of keys he held in his hand. He grunted as the first one he tried was unsuccessful. "Only 250 more to go," he joked, as he chuckled.

 

"Will you _hurry up?_ " Michael scolded him. "The jailer will be back here any minute!"

 

"Now, Mikey, what little faith you have in me," Brian chided him. "Trust me – robocop's not going _anywhere_ for a while – he's kind of _tied up_ ," he smirked, as he tried another key in the cell's antiquated lock. "Who still uses _skeleton keys_ in jail, anyway?" he grumbled. "Must be a _bare-bones_ kind of jail," he joked as he laughed at his own quip.

 

Michael rolled his eyes as he waited hopefully for Brian to successfully locate the right key to open their cell, his hands grasped around a couple of the cold, metal bars impatiently.

 

Emmett sighed in nervous anticipation as he, too, watched anxiously for their friend to find the right key to unlock the door. He fidgeted on his feet as he noticed their inquisitive roommate still gazing over at them intently, no doubt hoping he would be included in their _jailbreak_. "Uh, Brian," Emmett whispered. "What are we going to do about _him?"_ he made a quick jerking motion toward their fellow convict.

 

Brian glanced over at the cell's other occupant, giving him a nod and a smile as if to say, "How's it going?" before he turned back to his task. "He can go or stay – _I_ don't care. He'll have to find his OWN transportation, though…..only two convicts per vehicle."

 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Brian…..Just open the damned door, okay?"

 

"Eureka!" Brian finally shouted triumphantly in a southern twang. "Them there's _gold_ in them hills!" he exclaimed, smiling boastfully as one of the keys at last turned in the lock and he pulled the door toward him. "Collect your souvenirs, boys, and let's get _out_ of here – don't forget to leave your comment card at the front desk."

 

Michael and Emmett didn't need any further encouragement, as they both rushed out of the cell, closely followed by "Sailor Sam," who didn't hesitate to join them in their jailbreak. Brian merely smiled at him as he and the two other men stepped over the now unconscious form of their jailer, who was lying prone on the floor with the exception of his right hand, which was still cuffed to a wooden banister running alongside the hallway. A desk lamp, apparently taken from a nearby oak desk, lay askew directly next to the uniformed man.

 

Michael and Emmett looked over at Brian questioningly. "He looked tired," Brian said, smirking, as he began to pull both men by their shoulders in a silent admonition to hurry up before their "weary" jailer decided to wake up. Brian had a sneaking suspicion, though, that the man would be too embarrassed to admit what had _really_ happened tonight; besides, he had no way of knowing who Brian was and chances are, this small-time sheriff's department wouldn't have the manpower, or money, to expend on finding and re-arresting a couple of "lewd exhibitionists." Maybe Emmett might wind up being arrested eventually by the fashion police, but NOT this hick town's police force.

 

The tattooed "sailor," now free of his constraints as well, paused for a second to throw a kiss to Brian for his rescue efforts before he threw open the front door of the police building and rushed out.

 

"Another chance at true love forever lost," Brian scolded his two friends, just as they opened the back door and hurried out into the inky, black night.

 

* * *

 

Justin's palms were beginning to sweat profusely, even though the night air was quickly becoming quite cool, and his body was starting to stiffen up from constantly standing crouched by the dumpster's gate, anxiously peering through the cracked door for any sign of his partner. He pressed the nightlight button on his wristwatch and noticed to his increasingly panicked state that it had been approximately 12 minutes since Brian had knocked on the back door of the jail and gained entrance to it. _Come on, Brian…..where ARE you? This isn't the time to lose your TOUCH._

 

What would he do if Brian didn't come out? He had made light of that possibility before, but he was really starting to get worried now. What possessed him to persuade Brian to come with him and try to break Michael and Emmett out of jail? What would have the worst that would have happened to them if they had just left them IN there? Emmett would have probably broken a manicured nail and Michael would have probably been _adopted_ by someone looking for a "trophy wife."

 

Justin shuddered at the thought as he shook his head; not a pretty sight. No, they had had no choice in the matter. But if Brian didn't come out in the next couple of minutes, he was going to have to think of something. Right now, though, he had no fucking idea what that would BE.

 

He shrunk back quickly out of sight and into his protective blanket of darkness as he heard the back door opening. Cautiously, he peered through the crack and his heart leapt as he saw three shadowy figures rushing out. "Time for garbage pickup, Sunshine," he heard a familiar voice call out as he sighed in great relief.

 

"Brian!" he urgently whispered, as he ran at full speed toward the other man and launched himself into the other man's waiting arms. He couldn't help inhaling Brian's familiar, reassuring scent and giving him a little perfunctory sniff as they kissed deeply in reunion.

 

Even in the relative darkness, there were still enough lights shining nearby for Justin to make out his partner's customary smirk as he pulled himself back slightly to look at his partner. "Don't worry, Maw," Brian whispered huskily with unaccustomed tenderness. "I stayed faithful to ye," he added. Justin noticed that his partner's southern twang had somehow been replaced now by a Scottish accent, but he didn't care. He plastered a goofy grin on his face as he realized just what his partner was trying to tell him, and for some reason it filled him with a warm, fuzzy feeling inside as he joyfully wrapped his arms around the other man's neck.

 

"Hey, Baby," Emmett called out to him, smiling, as the two partners finally broke off their fierce embrace; Brian nuzzled his partner's nose for a second before he turned to face the two other men, his arm now around Justin's shoulders. "Loved the artwork by the way…..But it wasn't exactly true to scale, you know," Emmett chided his friend in mock insult. Right now, he was just happy to be free of his steel "cage."

 

Even though he should have been extremely annoyed at Emmett and Michael for what they had put the two of them through this past week, Justin found that he was feeling more relieved than angry at the moment, now that everyone was together again. "I'll keep that in mind next time, Em," he told his friend, laughing softly, as he reached over to give the man a quick kiss on the cheek. Emmett smiled back at him as the previous tension was quickly broken.

 

"Uh, I hate to break up this tender family reunion, but can we get the _hell_ out of here?" Michael grumbled; now that they were outside, he was feeling even colder, if that was possible. At least he could at last breathe some fresh air, rather than the stale, freezing atmosphere of their jail cell.

 

Brian glared at him briefly. "Keep up that bedside manner, Mikey, and we'll cuff you together with Boss Hogg inside," he warned him sternly; thankfully, Michael knew when he should exhibit prudence, so he chose to remain blissfully silent.

 

"Let's go, Sunshine," Brian told the blond, who eagerly nodded as the two of them began to lead the others toward their SUV parked around the front. "We'll call the professor and let him know where he can pick up our two ex-convicts." It was going to be hard enough to fit them into their SUV, since Justin had it practically crammed full with camping supplies. Fortunately, since they had spent last night at the lodge, they already had most of their camping gear already packed into the vehicle, but it hadn't been easy clearing out enough space to accommodate two more passengers. If they hadn't had to leave adequate fucking room in the back, it would have been almost impossible.

 

As they reached the rental vehicle and Brian opened the driver's side door, he spared one last look at the town that had hosted his least favorite activity with his MOST favorite person – Justin. The past week certainly hadn't been all bad, but it would be a long time – if EVER – before he participated in any of the activities connected with camping – except for one, of course. As he looked over at his passenger now sitting next to him in the front seat, he shook his head and smiled. The man sure could make him do things he never, ever thought he would do, at least while alive and breathing. But the man sure did keep his life interesting.

 

Just before he started the car to drive away from the "scene of their crime," he took the black police hat off his head and plopped it on his partner's blond one. As Justin grinned back at him, he said, "There's one more hat for your collection, Sunshine. We'll play our own version of cops and robbers later."


	18. Home at Last!  Epilogue

_Brian's Loft – Later that Evening_

 

Justin swung the heavy metal door to Brian's loft open and eagerly closed it back; now that they were finally back in "civilization," Brian had insisted on some _real_ food. Anxious to partly thank his partner for his part in springing Michael and Emmett from jail, Justin had volunteered to run down to the nearby Thai restaurant and pick up some much-desired "normal" food (i.e., nothing with Spam in it and nothing that wriggled...).

 

As he turned around with the bag in his hand, however, he noticed with surprise that Brian wasn't in the kitchen OR sitting on the couch. "Brian?" he asked curiously.

 

"In the bedroom, Maw," was the husky drawl. Justin smirked. Of _course;_ here he thought Brian was talking about his appetite for FOOD; he should have _known better_. Not one to be difficult, however, he decided satisfying his partner's OTHER appetite wouldn't be so bad, either, as he laid the carryout bag down on the nearby counter and walked slowly toward the bedroom.

 

The panels, which were strangely closed, successfully blocked his view of the king-sized bed. _Just what was his partner UP to?_ he wondered... _besides what he was NORMALLY up to, anyway._ He was about to open the panels to find out when he was slightly startled by Brian suddenly opening the panels himself, almost right on cue. Justin's eyes widened as he drunk in the sight of the oh-so-sexy "cop" standing in front of him, wearing nothing but his sunglasses, official patrol hat and a big, wide grin. He held a long, black, wooden baton in one hand as he smacked the end in the palm of his other hand a few times.

 

"Why, _hello_ , Mr. Taylor…..About _time_ you got here! I was just about to issue an official APB for your sexy, little ass…." A mixture of a little trepidation, mixed in with a LOT of horniness, instantly coursed through Justin's veins as he noticed with amusement that their camping tent, which was now perfectly set up on top of their bed, wasn't the _only_ thing that was standing there completely erect. _Of course…. NOW the man would figure out how to properly set it up…..._

 

"Oh, you _were_ , were you?" he asked as he couldn't help grinning back at his own, personal _bodyguard,_ who slowly lowered his shades on the bridge of his nose to peer back at him intently; the leer his "warden" was giving him was making his body respond rapidly; he could feel his cock hardening instantly and he felt his face flush with desire as his eyes couldn't keep from avoiding the predatory look he was getting in return.

 

"Uh, huh," was the curt reply, as the brunet slowly approached him until they were standing flush with each other. "Since you made me wait, however, I'll have to _restrain_ you while I do a _deep-cavity search_ ," he informed him. "First we'll have to strip you, though…."

 

Justin giggled; he never thought the words "deep cavity search" would ever sound so sexy, but he couldn't wait to see what THAT particular police procedure entailed. "Well, if I must," he said dramatically. "Just be gentle with me, Officer." He stood there accommodatingly with his hands stretched up in the air in surrender.

 

Brian nudged his hat up slightly with his baton as he smirked, bemused, his lips curling under in that way that always made the blond _crazy_. Justin lowered his hands, about to start unbuttoning his own shirt, as he was eager to begin his "interrogation," when he heard Brian say, "Uh, uh, uh, _Mr. Taylor_. As the _arresting officer_ , I have to strip you _personally_. Back away from the buttons, Blondie."

 

Justin pretended to give that some thought. "Oh…..I don't know, _Officer Kinney_. I just met you…..how do I know you're not going to take _advantage_ of me?" he asked innocently, blinking his blue eyes as they twinkled in mischief. _God, how he absolutely, fucking LOVED it when Brian was playful like this…._

 

Brian pursed his lips together, utterly enjoying their little _performance_ , but trying hard not to let Justin know it; of course, he already KNEW Justin was on to him – the little twat had been on to him from the _second_ they had met…..

 

He reached out his free hand to tenderly sweep a wispy bang away from his "captive's" forehead. "You'll just have to trust me, Hot Stuff….. _I'M_ in charge here, you got it?" he asked, growling, as he reached out to slowly start unbuttoning Justin's shirt.

 

Justin fidgeted in nervous anticipation; the man was going WAY too slowly for his taste. "Can you just get this over with, Officer? I'm getting overheated in this jail…..It's awfully _hot_ in here…..isn't it?" he asked politely; inside, however, he felt like his whole fucking body was hot enough to burn Brian's _fingers_ as the man simply chuckled softly and continued to ever so _s-l-o-w-l-y_ unbutton Justin's shirt as Justin sighed in agonized irritation.

 

"Yeah, Mr. Taylor, paybacks are a real bitch, aren't they?" he responded, his voice coming out as a husky whisper; Justin shivered slightly as at last, Brian loosened the last of his buttons and _finally_ pulled Justin's shirt away from his now bare chest. "I seem to remember a certain little camping slut taking an _awfully long time_ taking a bath in the lake….." Justin's body temperature shot up another 10 degrees or so as the brunet reached out to ever-so-softly trail a single, long finger down the middle of the pale, smooth chest before he crooked it under Justin's pants. Justin noticed his _arresting officer_ (emphasis on the ARRESTING part, definitely, as Justin couldn't help raking his eyes down the other man's entire, perfectly tanned body) grinning in smug vindication as Justin pushed the lower half of his body toward him in wanton impatience.

 

Brian smacked Justin's hands as the blond tried to help him with his state of undress – or in his case, the LACK thereof. "Remember, Taylor, anything you do or say can be _used against you_ ….."

 

Justin glared at him; he couldn't take the agony any longer. "Will you fucking get it _OVER WITH_ , Officer?" Justin groused in torment. _Couldn't the man see he was DYING from desire here?_ To his consternation, however, Brian merely laughed at his discomfiture instead. "Strip me, alreadyr52;" he demanded, his eyes flashing.

 

Brian openly smiled now, thoroughly enjoying his control over his "prisoner." "So eager, Mr. Taylor," he clucked, as he _finally_ sprung the button loose from the fly of Justin's pants. There was a pregnant, agonizing pause before he at last released his baton to let it freely dangle from the strap on his wrist so he could use both hands now to firmly grasp Justin's pants and briefs together to deftly push them down the slender legs to pool at Justin's feet. The effect he was having on his partner was blatantly obvious now as he peered down at the large, erect, rapidly darkening cock leaking profusely with precum under his close scrutiny. "Well…..I see you're more than ready now for your _deep cavity search_ ," he observed. "Come with me to the interrogation room so I can search you _properly_ then," he said.

 

_About fucking time..._ Justin quickly disposed of his shoes, socks, pants and briefs, as Brian roughly reached out to grab Justin's wrist and pull him into their "tented" bedroom.

 

 

* * *

 

_A few minutes later_

 

Justin lay totally nude on the soft duvet, the dark blue fabric complimenting his pale skin perfectly; he giggled as he felt the soft, calfskin strip lightly making a trail down his body from his neck to his belly button. Brian had begun his "examination" by cuffing him to the bed and then taking a leisurely journey with his hands, lips and tongue all the way from Justin's feet up to his neck, suckling the tender flesh at the collar bone but pointedly avoiding his cock on the way up, however. As Brian now replaced the leather strap with his tongue to began a wet, slow journey down the same path as the calfskin, Justin's face tensed in exquisite torture and his body bucked up as he strained against the hard, metal silver handcuffs currently binding his hands against the bedpost. He rued the apparent fact that both the sheriff in West Virginia AND his partner must have each had a set of handcuffs, although he couldn't for the life of him figure out where Brian's had come from - he certainly didn't pick THOSE up at the Goodwill...

 

He gasped as Brian's hands reached up to rub his nipples and then pinch them for good measure as he continued to swirl his expertly-curved tongue around his navel. "Brian," he shakily uttered, his senses - AND his body - rapidly going into overload… "Let me loose," he implored his tormenter. He wanted to touch his sexy partner so badly, but the handcuffs left him helpless to do so. He felt the vibration on his stomach of Brian's lips as he chuckled into his skin; the only other response to his plea was for Brian to place his hands on his thighs now to prevent him from using his legs for leverage against him.

 

_The man wasn't playing fair_ , Justin complained internally as Brian continued to lick and nip at the fleshy, soft skin everywhere but where he _wanted_ him to; the man was exhibiting an incredible amount of discipline – or was it torture? – as he purposely avoided placing his perfect lips around his cock, even though Justin's body was practically crying out for it. _Damn the man….._

 

"Brian…..," he tried again beseechingly. "I want to _touch_ you, damn it! Take these fucking cuffs _off_!" he demanded, growling now in agony.

 

Brian stopped his relentless ministrations long enough to lift his head and peer up at his _captive_. "So impatient for your deep search body cavity, aren't you?" he chided his prisoner. "I was just _frisking_ you first to discover whether you had any secret weapons…."

 

"Yeah, well, as a matter of fact, I DO... my _secret weapon_ is cocked and ready for action, _Officer,"_ Justin snapped, all patience gone now. "Either let me up or be prepared for the _consequences_!" Justin didn't want to come like this, however; he wanted desperately for his own, big, bad _officer_ to use his big, bad baton in his "sweet, little ass," as he had called it. " _Frisk_ me ALREADY!" he growled, as he tried to roughly wrench his hands free of the handcuffs and wriggled his body violently for attention.

 

Brian noticed with a little concern that Justin was close to actually injuring his hands if things got any _more_ out of control; he decided quickly, then, that it was time to do just _that_. "Well, all you had to do was _ask me_ , Mr. Taylor," he huskily answered; he reached over to the side of the bed to pick up a small, silver key and deftly placed it in the left hand's lock. A small click sounded as the cuff abruptly fell away; a few seconds later, Justin's other hand was at least freed from its confines and permitted to do what he had wanted to do from the moment Brian had thrown him down on the bed and pinned him to the mattress with his body. As Brian reached over with thoughts of massaging the pale, slightly bruised wrists,Justin quickly reached up and pulled Brian down with him, managing with surprising agility to turn their positions around so at last the _prisoner_ was sitting triumphantly on top of his very own, sexy _policeman_. As Brian peered up at him in surprise, his lips twisted in a bemused smile and his eyebrows rising in delicious expectation, Justin bit out a dangerous warning, "It's time to see just how _big_ your baton is, _Officer."_ The blond barely could wait long enough to reach over and grab the lube and a nearby condom from the night table; with shaky hands, he somehow managed to slip the condom onto Brian's _"baton"_ before he squirted some of the lube on his fingers.

 

Hastily spreading some of it at his hole and onto Brian's cock, he grinned down at his extremely _arresting_ officer before saying, "Let's see just how _deep_ my _cavity_ IS," before he promptly lowered himself down fully onto Brian's cock; he heard a satisfying, loud moan from Brian as he slowly raised himself up and down to fully come crashing back down several times. "There are times for _slow_ …," he grunted as he raised himself and pounded relentlessly into Brian again, "and then there are times NOT to be _slow_ ," he grunted once more as he again crashed down onto the brunet's cock, getting an even louder response from the brunet then.

 

"Fuck!" Brian cried out; he reached out almost blindly to possessively begin to pump Justin's own pulsating cock in unison before they both cried out in euphoric pleasure a few seconds later and climaxed together. Before Justin collapsed on top of him, he decided there would be time to play with their _other_ baton later...

 

* * *

 

As Justin lay on top of _Officer Kinney_ , both men's chest heaving in the aftershock, Justin let out a satiated, contented sigh. "You can _frisk me_ and use your big, bad baton on me any day, Officer," he whispered breathlessly, his heartbeat still beating rapidly from his _deep-body cavity search_. He relished in the feel of the taut, smooth body panting in time to his own heartbeat underneath him before, with extreme reluctance, he finally rolled off Brian's body to allow him to remove the condom and tie it off before dropping it into the trashcan next to the bed.

 

As Brian twisted his body to turn and face his partner's flushed face, his couldn't help reaching over to wrap his arm around Justin's back; the blond immediately scooted his own body closer to his partner's in response as his left hand reached up to slowly trail his fingers across the wonderfully-shaped lips he knew so well. Brian smiled into the touch as his eyes tenderly peered over at the sparkling blue orbs lovingly staring back at him with unabashed adoration.

 

"Well, I must admit…..you're certainly the most _entertaining_ prisoner I've ever captured," he murmured in a deep tone of voice. "I just might have to recommend that you receive a _life_ sentence, Mr. Taylor," he whispered softly; what he meant to come out as a snappy comeback, however, somehow changed into more of a gentle, tender whisper as he uttered the words aloud. Right now, though, he didn't fucking _care_. A lifetime with this man would _never_ be enough, anyway.

 

He turned on his back briefly to reach over to the nightstand and retrieve his patrol hat, placing it once again on his _prisoner's_ blond head. Justin smirked as Brian added softly, "Just promise me one thing, Sunshine…..no more camping, no more hats, and no more _singing_ …"

 

Justin snorted. "That's _three_ things, Brian," he pointed out. He seemed to consider the request carefully before deciding, "Okay on the first two...but I still get to sing in the shower." As if on cue, to Brian's annoyance and before he could vehemently put the kibosh on _that_ horrible idea (he was most certainly NOT fucking Justin in the shower while he was singing), a new song suddenly emerged from the blond's fucked-up head and emerged from his perfect, pink lips. _Where does the man FIND these things?_

 

_"West Virginia wants me, Lord I can't go back there_

_West Virginia wants me, Lord I can't go back there_

_I wish I had you, to talk to….._

_It hurts to see the man that I've become_

_And to know I'll never see the morning sunshine on the land_

_I'll never see your smiling face, or touch your hand_

_If just once more I could see_

_You, our home, and….."_

 

The rest of the lyrics were swiftly lost to posterity as Brian effectively ended his latest round of torment at Justin's hand by the only way he knew how – as his mouth came smashing down onto his partner's, the only other sound heard, thankfully then, was the giggle on his sweet blond's lips as they began their familiar duel once again.

 

As Brian ravaged his mouth and his body thrummed with delight, Justin's last thoughts of sanity were… _maybe skydiving….._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading. Would love to hear your thoughts.;)


End file.
